


The Face Behind the Phone

by Feriku



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dyslexia, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jan Van Eck is awful, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Esteem Issues, Texting, Trust Issues, wesper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feriku/pseuds/Feriku
Summary: When Wylan Van Eck moves ahead to take math and science classes with the grade above him, he immediately catches Jesper's eye. Unfortunately, deep self-esteem and trust issues prevent Wylan from opening up to anyone--at least until he begins an anonymous texting conversation with one of his classmates.





	1. Some Sort of Genius

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, I read a very cute Modern AU fanfic in which Wylan and Jesper end up texting each other without knowing who the other is: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8367499
> 
> I liked the premise so much, it inspired me to write something similar. However, because I am a cruel author, this has far more angst. Lots of angst! But also fluff, I promise.
> 
> As a writer who never writes m/m romance, isn't interested in Modern AUs, and rarely goes near canon pairings, it stands to reason I'd eventually write a Modern AU canon m/m pairing just to contradict everything.

The moment Wylan stepped into the classroom, his face heated up despite his promise to himself that he’d remain composed. Class had already started. The seated students gave him curious glances, and even the teacher turned from her podium with a puzzled expression as if not sure why he was there.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“I’m in your class now.” He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the way the room seemed to tilt and shift around him.

Understanding dawned on her face. “You’re Wylan Van Eck?”

He bobbed his head in a quick nod, grateful they’d explained the situation to her so he wouldn’t have to spend even more time in front of the room.

“All right,” she said. “We’ve just begun, so you’ll be able to catch up. Take the empty seat next to Mr. Fahey.”

Wylan stared at her with wide eyes and hoped she’d realize that since he wasn’t in their grade, he had no idea who Fahey was. Then he glanced out at the class—maybe it was a signal for the other student to helpfully wave him over.

Instead, he realized with a sinking sensation that this was one of the social teachers who thought everyone should get to know each other on the first day by putting name cards on their desks.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. He wasn’t about to announce in front of everyone that he couldn’t read. Instead, he took another deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself—having an outright panic attack would be about as embarrassing as telling them about his problem—and shuffled toward the seated students.

There were two blessings. First, it was a relatively small class. Second, there were only a handful of empty seats around other students. Narrowing it down to empty seats by male students made it a little easier.

He edged toward one possible desk and lingered nearby awkwardly. A few students were still looking at him, but most had turned their attentions back to the front of the room or their own conversations. Maybe he should just sit down and pretend he hadn’t heard right if it turned out to be the wrong seat.

As he hesitated, torn with indecision, the lanky student beside the empty desk leaned across the aisle toward him. “I know my radiance is overwhelming, but you can sit down.” He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his dark brown skin.

Wylan gratefully sank into the seat and dug out his notebook. A second later, he realized the student—presumably Fahey—had yet to move back to his own desk. Partly in Wylan’s space, he watched him with interest.

A shiver ran down Wylan’s spine, and he leaned as far to the other side as he could without leaving the seat. The last thing he needed was for someone from this class to harass him already, on the first day.

“You can come closer,” the boy said. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Or do you want me to?”

Wylan flushed at the insinuation.

“Oh, you _do_ , don’t you?”

It was going to be one of those days. “ _No._ ”

Mercifully, the boy finally retreated to his own space, and Wylan eased into his seat. When the lecture began, things improved. It was Pre-Calculus, and he could copy down the formulas and equations without the difficulty that overcame him in most other classes.

Partway through, the boy next to him scribbled something on a piece of paper and passed it over. Wylan glanced at it, but it was pointless. The incomprehensible squiggles and lines could have been anything. He shoved the note away.

Their class lasted for two periods, and so the teacher gave them a break partway through. Wylan dreaded breaks—a time when the lecture would stop and people interacted with each other. He always spent that time quietly, alone, and pretended he didn’t want something else.

This time, however, the start of break was immediately followed by a pouting, “You didn’t even read it,” from the desk next to him.

Wylan flinched and tried to banish his father’s sudden oppressive voice in his head. _I want you to read it to me. Are you even trying?_ He stared down at his desk. “I don’t pass notes in class.”

“Aw, read it now, then.”

_You will sit there until you can read the first sentence to me. One sentence, Wylan. This isn’t hard._

Deep breaths helped stave off a panic attack. “No.”

Movement in the corner of his eye made him hope the other student decided to bother someone else, but he was only turning to face him. “I’m Jesper Fahey.”

With a sigh, Wylan glanced at him. “Wylan Van Eck.” He held out his hand and tried to ignore his burgeoning hope that maybe in this class he’d have someone friendly to talk to.

Jesper gaped at his hand for a moment before accepting his handshake. “I feel so formal.”

Maybe not. Wylan snatched his hand back. His ears burned with embarrassment.

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

Before the other boy could finish, Wylan realized he’d heard that name before. “Jesper Fahey? Then you’re… one of Kaz Brekker’s associates.”

“Ooh, _associates_? I like it.” Jesper waggled his eyebrows. “Makes me sound rather dashing.”

Wylan blushed again. If this kept up, he was going to pass out. It didn’t help that Jesper _was_ handsome—no. He tried to calm his hammering heart. He wouldn’t go there. No one liked Wylan Van Eck in that way. Certainly not someone as good-looking as Jesper.

“Wait.” Jesper frowned. “Either our reputation spreads faster than I thought, or you’re not new here. But I don’t remember seeing you before.” His frown abruptly switched to a grin. “And I’d remember someone as cute as you.”

He had to be making fun of him. Wylan looked away so as not to meet his gaze. “I’m from the grade below you.”

“But you’re in our math class? So… you’re some sort of genius?”

Wylan squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to cry. No, he wasn’t a genius. He wasn’t anything close to a genius. His father made sure he knew that.

Their break finally ended, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

#

Wylan’s second class was Chemistry, also with the upper grade. The classroom was in a separate part of the building, and by the time he found his way to the right place, class had almost started. He sent up a silent prayer that it would be with a different group of students, or at least not with one particular student, and entered the classroom.

Jesper nearly jumped out of his seat to wave.

Wylan pretended not to see him and scanned the room. Most of the seats were already taken. There was really nowhere else to go, unless he wanted to sit by Kaz, who had several empty desks all around him.

Better to be harassed than murdered. Wylan didn’t plan on testing Kaz’s reputation to see if it was true. He reluctantly walked to Jesper, who moved a backpack off of the desk next to his.

“I saved you a seat.”

“Lucky me.” Wylan rolled his eyes and sat down. “How’d you even know I’d be in this class?”

“You’re a genius, right? If you have math with us, it makes sense you’d be here, too.”

“Don’t call me a genius.”

“What, you’d rather I compliment your looks?” Jesper winked. “I can do that.”

He looked down at his desk. “Just leave me alone.”

“Come on, just because you’re cute _and_ smart, that doesn’t mean you get to look down on us less fortunate souls, Mr. Van—” Jesper abruptly stopped. “Wait, your name is Van Eck? Like the businessman?”

“My father,” Wylan said through gritted teeth.

“So you’re cute, smart, _and_ rich?” Jesper threw his hands in the air. “Some people have all the luck.”

Wylan was pretty sure he hated Jesper Fahey.

#

The universe was out to get Jesper. It was the only explanation.

He had no problem getting dates, but never anything lasting. Superficial meetings with no emotional connection, fun for an evening or two and meaningless after that.

Whenever he wanted something more, it was a disaster.

First it was Kaz Brekker. Most people were scared to death of him, and it was rare to see him even crack a smile, but Jesper hung around his intimidating classmate as much as possible, until they finally became… well, as close to friends as anyone could be with Kaz.

But as time passed and Jesper’s hints and insinuations met with nothing more than glares or outright dismissal, he finally realized it was hopeless. If Kaz was interested in anyone, it was Inej Ghafa, and he’d never think of Jesper that way. Jesper went on a string of pointless dates with other boys and girls and hoped for salvation from his bleak future of unrequited love.

Salvation popped up in class that morning in the form of a genius boy with red-gold curls. Wylan Van Eck’s smile burned thoughts of a certain scowling classmate right out of Jesper’s heart.

At least, until Wylan started scowling at him, too.

Jesper eventually gave up on talking to him during Chemistry, because he seemed totally focused on his notes—and when he tried to see how the other boy was getting so much intent writing out of what their teacher said, Wylan put his arm up like a shield to block his view.

Did something in him bring out annoyance in the people he most wanted to attract? Or was he unconsciously drawn to grumpy loners, even if they had the face of an angel?

Class ended. Jesper caught Wylan’s gaze and winked. Wylan’s beautiful face furrowed into a scowl and he radiated sheer displeasure. Defeated, Jesper slumped and gathered up his things. The younger boy was out the door almost immediately.

It was time for lunch, but Jesper ducked into the bathroom on the way and pulled out his phone. Normally, he’d talk to his friends during lunch, but since Chemistry ran through the lunch block for Wylan’s grade, there was a good chance he’d be in lunch with them, too.

Jesper ran through his list of contacts until he found Inej. She was good at reading people. Not as good as Kaz, but asking Kaz for social advice was one of the worst ideas Jesper ever heard of.

_I tried to make a new friend, but he hates my guts. What did I do wrong?_

It only took a minute for her response to arrive: _Is this about the kid in Pre-Calc?_

Was it that obvious? Jesper rolled his eyes, texted a quick _yes_ , and waited.

_Maybe tone down the flirting?_

_You were making him uncomfortable._

_Just be nice._

Several indignant responses ran through Jesper’s mind. First, he was hardly so unappealing that a little bit of flirting should cause raging hatred, and second, she told him to be nice like he wasn’t normally nice. He was perfectly nice to Wylan!

But he hesitated. Maybe he went overboard. It was the first time they met, and from how often Wylan blushed—adorably—he had to be pretty shy. Maybe he thought Jesper was some kind of creepy stalker.

He sent back a one-word reply: _Thanks._

Then he headed back out into the hallway, planning to repair the damage he did.


	2. Miracle

Wylan sat at a table by himself in the cafeteria.

It didn’t matter that his new schedule meant he missed lunch with his class and had to eat with the grade above, because even when he did eat with his class, he usually sat alone.

He looked over at the groups of laughing, talking students and tried to ignore the gaping loneliness that ate at his heart. Maybe he should try to join them. But no. He knew how it went. Whenever he sat with his classmates, they ignored him. He wasn’t interesting enough for them—too quiet, too weird. Then it felt even worse, because they were right there and he still couldn’t join in.

It was better to do it this way, to sit down at an empty table and watch the others sit everywhere else, like he had a special aura that warded people away.

Then a tall dark form walked into the cafeteria, and Wylan quickly looked down at the table.

But the don’t-sit-with-Wylan aura must not have been at full power after all, because the figure he very carefully didn’t look at took two steps toward the table where Kaz and his friends sat, then veered to the side and made a beeline straight for Wylan.

What did he do to make Jesper want to torment him?

“Sitting all alone?”

He didn’t look up. “Yes.”

To his dismay, Jesper plopped down in the seat across from him. “Don’t be scared of asking to sit with someone.”

“I’m not scared,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended.

“Then come sit with me and my friends.”

Wylan glanced up and immediately regretted it. When he looked into Jesper’s gray eyes, he wanted to believe the offer was genuine. But he looked away. At best, the older boy wanted to get into the good graces of someone who was rich. At worst, it was a trick to make him believe he had friends, only to pull away the rug and leave him helpless as they laughed at his gullibility.

“I don’t want to,” he said.

Jesper grinned. “They’re not as bad as you think.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but Kaz actually has a warm, loving heart.”

“Sure,” Wylan said. “I bet he keeps it in a jar on his desk.”

Jesper choked and burst out laughing. “You really will fit in with us. Come on.”

“No.”

His mirth vanished, and he frowned. “Don’t tell me you think you’re better than us because you’re a Van Eck.”

“No,” Wylan whispered. Better than them? Try the opposite. Even if he tried to fit in, he couldn’t hide his secret forever. They’d find out he couldn’t read, and then…

The world wobbled, and he drew in a sharp breath. Focus. He could deal with this. Deep breaths. His heart felt like it might explode, but he could handle it. No one would learn the truth. No one would laugh at him. And if they did, it didn’t matter, because he wouldn’t open his heart to them anyway.

He couldn’t trust them. They’d hurt him. Even Jesper, with his smiles and laughter and flirtation.

No—especially Jesper.

“Are you all right?” Jesper asked.

“I’m fine!” Wylan clenched his hands into fists. “Just… just go away.”

He thought he’d feel better when Jesper rose and walked across the cafeteria to sit with his friends instead of bothering him. Instead, the ache in his heart grew worse. He buried his face in his arms and tried not to cry.

#

_You were wrong, Inej._

_I think he’s just a jerk._

#

The rest of the day went better. Wylan’s remaining classes were with his own grade. He didn’t have any friends there, but at least he didn’t have Jesper, either. His final period was a special study session meant to help him with his English class, which went as terribly as he expected it to, but then the school day ended and it was time for band practice.

Band was one of the few places Wylan truly felt at home. No one cared that he was quiet and weird. No one asked him to read anything except music. And when he played his flute alongside everyone else, he felt like he actually belonged.

When band practiced finished, Wylan felt a bit of his composure returning. Enough to go home and face his father, at least. He packed away his flute, grabbed his bag, and headed out.

As he left the band room, he spotted something on the floor in the hall. A book, which looked like it must have fallen out of some careless student’s backpack.

Wylan hesitantly picked it up and looked around for any sign of its owner. No one else was around. Well, even if he couldn’t read it, he could at least make sure it got back to the right place. The school library was closed after-hours, but he’d take it there the next morning.

He slipped the book into his bag and continued on his way.

#

Wylan considered going straight upstairs to his room, but he might as well get the meeting over with. He braced himself and knocked on the door of his father’s office.

“Come in.”

He walked inside and tried to calm the fear and anxiety swirling inside of him.

Jan Van Eck looked up from his desk with an almost bored expression. “How did it go?”

“Good.” Wylan swallowed hard and gave his father a hopeful smile. “My teachers said I’m ready for more advanced math and science than other kids my age. They rearranged my schedule so I can take classes with the juniors.”

His father didn’t look impressed. “What else?”

Wylan wilted. “I have… a study hall to work on my English homework.”

“Fantastic.” His sarcastic tone cut through Wylan like a knife. “With enough work, maybe you can catch up to the first grade.”

Wylan’s eyes burned with tears, but he fought them. He refused to cry in front of his father again. “The teacher suggested I might need special help to—”

“Enough.”

He flinched backward as his father raised his hand, but it seemed all he wanted was his silence.

“I don’t want to hear any more about that,” his father said. “If you won’t put forth the effort to learn, that’s your fault.”

Wylan looked down at the ground.

“I expect better results from you this year. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then go. I have work to do.”

Wylan managed not to run out of the office, but by the time he re-emerged into the hallway, tears were filling his eyes again. He trudged through the mansion, mumbled a hello to Alys—his father’s young wife was so oblivious she probably didn’t notice his tears anyway—and went upstairs to his room.

Inside, he flopped down on his bed and sighed. He should have known better than to hope his father would be pleased by his success in math and science. It never mattered to him. Not math or science or music or anything else Wylan could actually do. He only focused on the things he failed at.

Why did he think things would change this year? Jesper’s question rang through his mind again. Maybe, despite his efforts to shield himself, he let himself believe that people really did see him as _some sort of genius._ Stupid. Jesper was just making fun of him, and he had to remember that.

Wylan didn’t want to think about his father or Jesper. He sat up and slowly unpacked his bag. Pre-Calculus and Chemistry homework would be easy. The rest required reading, but he’d found the audiobook versions of his textbooks.

He shoved those books off to the side. He’d take them to school to pretend he could read them, but they were useless to him aside from that.

One last book remained in his bag, and he pulled it out. It was the one he’d found on the ground. Curious and not quite ready to dive into homework just yet, he opened it to the front cover. Library books had a little card in front, which this one lacked. Then it was either personal reading or something assigned in a class.

He could take it to the lost-and-found instead of the library, but annoyance bubbled up in him. He found the book, he should be able to get it to its owner. If he could at least read the title or description to get an idea if it came from a class…

The words meant nothing to him. It made his head hurt to focus on them. But there was also a post-it note inside the front cover. It had something written on it—maybe the owner’s name, and then another line, and then a number.

A phone number.

He could solve this problem after all! Feeling a little better, Wylan got out his cell phone. It had a speech-to-text program that let him convert his voice into texts, and with Alys’s confused but earnest help when he first got it, he’d managed to teach it his voice and speech mannerisms so that his texts would read like anyone else’s.

_Like any normal person’s._ His father’s mocking voice drifted through his thoughts, and he drove it away.

Wylan never had much reason to use the program. No one texted him, since he had no friends, so the whole thing seemed a bit ridiculous after his initial excitement. But finally he could put it to good use.

He entered the number from the front of the book and turned on the software. “Hey,” he whispered into his phone, “I found a book in the hall with this number in it. Did you lose it?”

#

Jesper muttered to himself all the way home.

The rest of the day had been mercifully free from adorable distractions, until he was on his way out. He’d been walking past the band room on his way to the exit when he happened to glance inside and see Wylan sitting there.

He’d then promptly walked into a wall and dropped everything.

It wasn’t just that Wylan appeared to be a flutist, which brought to mind all kinds of possible innuendos he could make, but also that the boy looked happy. After their hostile encounters in class and how upset he seemed at lunch, the sight of him with a bright smile on his face was startling.

And Jesper couldn’t get it out of his head. He skipped hanging out with his friends after school because he couldn’t think straight—he claimed he had too much homework, which prompted a comment from Nina that he must be sick if he wanted to do homework—and went home.

He smiled when he said hello to his dad, because he didn’t want him to worry, and then headed to his room and shut the door.

The solution to all his problems was simple. He needed to stop thinking about Wylan.

Easier said than done. It might be simple if Wylan was just a pretty face—and his face was pretty, no doubt about that—but he was so smart, too. There was something almost magical about him. When Jesper thought back to his unexpected joke about Kaz keeping a heart in a jar, it made him laugh again. And Wylan seemed small and shy in a way that suggested he needed someone to sweep him off his feet and protect him—preferably someone tall, dark, and named Jesper Fahey.

Maybe he wasn’t into guys, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Jesper didn’t know what he’d done to make Wylan hate him so much. At least he could make an attempt at friendship, but the angel-faced sophomore was either stuck-up or scared of Kaz Brekker’s friends or yet another grumpy loner pretending he didn’t have emotions.

Jesper rubbed his face. When he asked for salvation from Kaz, he didn’t mean a mini-Kaz should waltz into his life and reject him. He needed a distraction. Someone to tear his thoughts away from Wylan Van Not-Interested.

But a miracle like that was unlikely to just show up, so Jesper needed to either go out searching or find another distraction. Maybe he could find someone interested in a one-night stand, maybe someone cute with red-gold curls and bright blue eyes…

Maybe he ought to actually do his homework.

#

Nina was right. He was sick. Heartsick. He’d worked through his homework assignments one by one and tried to ignore the treacherous voice in his head that kept mentioning Wylan. Maybe Wylan would give him advice on his math—surely it was destiny that put them side by side in Pre-Calculus. Maybe Wylan understood their Chemistry formulas enough to give him some advice.

History. What sort of history class did Wylan have? Maybe he’d ask for help.

Or Engli—oh crap. Jesper reached into his backpack and his fingers closed over empty space where his final book should have been.

He _thought_ he picked up all of his books, after the incident outside the band room, but he must have missed one in his distraction.

It wasn’t the first time he’d lost schoolbooks. After the last incident, where the lost book was nearly thrown away, Inej convinced him to label them in case it happened again. He’d stuck a post-it note inside the front cover asking anyone who found it to please return it to him. With any luck, someone would.

But they hadn’t yet, and he couldn’t write an analysis of the poems in the _Shadows in the Moonlight_ collection if he didn’t have the book to read. Not that it was a great loss. From what little he saw, they were cheesy and romantic. Silly, sappy stuff.

He wondered if Wylan liked poetry.

“Come on.” Jesper stared at his desk and the homework he couldn’t work on without his lost book. “I need a miracle to get this kid out of my head.”

Without work or a miracle or Wylan, he’d probably find himself sneaking out to play cards. And that was bad. He’d promised his dad he would quit gambling. He promised his friends, too.

But the itch, the need to get out there and do _something_ was too much. He stood up, ready to make an excuse to his dad and leave the house—and his phone buzzed.

Jesper glanced at it to see who texted him and blinked in surprise as he saw an unfamiliar number on the screen.

_Hey, I found a book in the hall with this number in it. Did you lose it?_

Jesper sat back down and grinned. He’d found his lost book after all.

And maybe his miracle.


	3. Texting

Wylan felt unaccountably nervous as he waited for a reply. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to happen—he sent it to the wrong number, the person left the book behind deliberately, it was all a crazy prank to see if anyone would try to return it—but when a reply popped up on his phone, he had to swallow several times and wipe his hands on his pants before he had the nerve to tap it.

His phone read the message to him out loud in a robotic voice: _Thanks, yeah._ A second reply came. _Shadows in the Moonlight, right?_

Wylan frowned, puzzled until he realized that must be the name of the book. “I didn’t look at the title.” He sent the message.

_Why not?_

He tried to think of a good lie. “I’m not nosy.”

_Seriously? It’s just a book title._

He blushed, but before he could think of a way to defend himself, another message came.

_Good thing. It’s erotica. Very hot. ;)_

Wylan knew his face turned scarlet, but he didn’t mind as much when no one could see him. He shoved the book firmly back into his bag and sent another reply. “So I guess I shouldn’t take it to the library.”

_Nope, just bring it straight to me. ;)_

It was a perfectly innocent statement, but even read in a robotic voice, something about it felt suggestive. Probably the punctuation at the end, which resembled a winking face when Wylan looked at the message.

“How about I leave it on a table in the cafeteria?”

_Too shy to meet me?_

_Afraid you’ll be overcome by my charms?_

“I’m not good at talking to people.”

_Oh._

_Okay then. No problem._

There was a pause, and then a third message: _Am I bothering you?_

Wylan hesitated. “No.”

In fact, he felt more comfortable with this conversation than he had with any interactions in a long time. This person didn’t know anything about him, and he hadn’t done anything stupid yet to ruin it. It felt like it did back in elementary school, when he still attempted to make friends, before everything got weird and awkward and he drifted further and further away.

He waited for the book’s owner to send another reply, but nothing came. A lump formed in his throat, and he set the phone down on his desk. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like they were friends, he just found the person’s book.

Wylan turned his attention to his homework at last. As he expected, math went well, and he was nearly done with the assignment when his phone buzzed with another message. He resisted the urge to snatch it up immediately and instead forced himself to finish the remaining problems before he checked his phone.

_Are you cute?_

He blushed for what felt like the hundredth time that day and quickly jammed a set of earbuds into his phone before embarrassing messages could be read out loud for anyone outside his room to overhear.

He kept his whisper even softer than before for his reply. “Sorry, no.”

_Liar._

_I bet you’re cute. ;)_

“I’m not.”

_Work with me here. My crush hates me._

“Probably because you flirt with people before you even know their names.”

_Going to tell me your name, then?_

“I’d rather not.”

_And my crush doesn’t know. We haven’t talked that much. He just hates me._

“I’m sorry.” It felt terrible to be rejected. This anonymous conversation made Wylan feel less lonely, and he wondered if maybe he wasn’t the only one.

He moved on to his Chemistry homework. Chemistry… Maybe he should see if the teacher had a problem with students moving seats. The thought of another day seated by Jesper made his stomach twist with anxiety, especially since their Chemistry syllabus said they’d be expected to do group lab work.

_So are you a cute boy?_

_Or a cute girl?_

_Don’t worry, I like both! ;)_

Wylan rolled his eyes, but he had to fight a grin. Someone was legitimately flirting with him. “I’m a boy, but we already established that I’m not cute.”

_We did not._

_Your texts are cute._

“They’re texts. How can they possibly be cute?”

He went back to his homework as he waited for a reply, and it took so long that he worried he might actually get a long paragraph on how texts could be cute.

_I’m cute._

_Very cute._

He rolled his eyes again. “I’m sure you are.”

_YES!_

_I’m counting that as you flirting back._

Despite the absurdity, a thrill of excitement ran through Wylan. It was unusual enough to be flirted with, but to flirt back—even accidentally—and have it be well-received? This was new and uncharted territory.

_Wait, did I say I’m a guy?_

_Is that okay?_

_Do you like guys?_

Wylan grinned. “Yes.”

_YES!_

The book’s owner certainly seemed happy about it. Almost like… he thought it might go somewhere? But that was crazy. For this to be anything more than texting, they’d have to meet in person. Wylan couldn’t do that. The guy would probably be disappointed when he saw him. This was a dream that would never go anywhere.

But he had no intention of ending it. For the first time in years, he felt like he was making a friend, and he wouldn’t be the one to give it up.

#

Jesper’s luck had finally changed for the better.

He’d hoped for a miracle, and the cute miracle that texted him about _Shadows in the Moonlight_ was perfect. He seemed a little goofy—he considered it too nosy to look at a book’s title?—but that just made him more loveable.

The moment Jesper got to school the next morning, he went to the cafeteria. There was no sign of his book. He lurked around in the hopes that someone adorable would walk in and set it down, but no mysterious book-bearers appeared.

Jesper got out his phone. He’d nicknamed his new contact Cutie Pie since he didn’t know his real name. They’d talked until pretty late the night before, when Cutie Pie said he needed to go before he disturbed anyone.

He wasn’t sure how texting could disturb people, but maybe he lived in close quarters. It didn’t matter. The important thing was that he gave every indication that the break in conversation was temporary.

_Where’s my book, Cutie Pie? ;)_

He paced in the cafeteria for a long time before the reply came.

_I’m not cute._

Jesper smirked. The insistence that he wasn’t cute made him all the cuter. _Whatever. Had to call you something._

_So where’s my book?_

But the reply that came a minute later wiped the smile from his face.

_I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad._

Jesper’s fingers flew over the screen as he texted back as quickly as he could. _Relax!_

_I’m not mad._

_You want to read that spicy romance for yourself, huh? ;)_

A long time passed with no reply, and he laughed to himself as he imagined the furious response he’d get if the kid took a closer look at the book and realized it was just a bunch of sappy poems.

More time passed.

And more.

Inej’s earlier comment about him making Wylan uncomfortable flashed through his mind. Between that and some of Cutie Pie’s unusual behavior, maybe the implication that he’d read erotica offended him.

_jk_

He waited another minute and tried again.

_I was joking. Don’t be mad._

Jesper glanced at the clock as he waited. It was almost time for class. But just in case his miracle was about to walk through the door…

Finally, his phone buzzed with a reply. _Sorry, I don’t like texting at school. Talk to you later._

Jesper almost responded that class hadn’t started yet, so most teachers wouldn’t have a problem with it, but he shrugged and put his phone back in his pocket. Whatever Cutie Pie’s issue was, it was fine.

Things were really looking up.

#

Jesper’s cheerful mood dampened when he got to class and remembered that he still had to deal with Wylan. Not that Wylan showed any sign of _dealing_ with him, but he had to sit by him and wonder why they couldn’t be friends.

The younger boy was putting away a pair of earbuds when Jesper got to his desk.

He leaned closer. “What were you listening to?”

Wylan turned scarlet. “N-Nothing!”

Jesper scratched his head and tried to figure that one out. When he made people blush, he usually said something at least vaguely suggestive. “Love songs?”

“No.”

This conversation had the potential to go downhill even faster than their previous ones, because Wylan looked like he wanted to stab him with a pencil. Jesper lifted his hands in the air. “All right, all right. Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start over.”

Wylan’s expression softened from hostility into wariness. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

Because Wylan was ridiculously cute. Because talking to someone was a good way to get their number. Because a life where Wylan hated him felt like a fate worse than death.

Jesper suppressed all his lighthearted responses and tried to think of a way to say it that wouldn’t scare him away. “Because you seem cool.”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah right.”

“You’re smart enough to take classes with kids older than you! That’s pretty cool, right?” Jesper’s thoughts flashed back to the band room incident the day before. “And you play the flute? That’s cool, too. I bet you’re great at it.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I mean that in a completely unsuggestive way.”

Wylan turned pink and buried his head in his arms, and Jesper made a mental note to not even hint at innuendos next time.

#

In Chemistry, Jesper devoted his full concentration to an important problem. Not the boring lecture, but on finding a way to say something nice to Wylan that didn’t have anything to do with the way he chewed on his lip when he was lost in thought, or how beautiful his eyelashes were when he lowered his head, or how delicate and graceful his fingers looked around his pencil.

Unfortunately, all of those distractions made it a bit hard to think.

But luck came through for him right as class ended. When Wylan grabbed his bag from the floor, he left his carefully-guarded notes unshielded.

And Jesper’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Before he knew what he was doing, he snatched the notebook from the other boy’s desk to get a closer look. It wasn’t blank like Jesper’s or filled with notes on what their teacher said. Instead, Wylan had _drawn the lecture._ No wonder he spent so much more time writing than anyone else. He wasn’t writing at all, he was drawing little atoms and chemical reactions.

Fingers closed around the notebook and yanked it out of Jesper’s hands. “That’s _mine_ ,” Wylan said, his voice clipped and his face red.

“That’s—” Jesper stared at him, barely able to form words. It wasn’t just an unconventional note-taking style, but the art was really good, too. “I—do you—Can I see your History notes?”

If his History notebook was filled with tiny renditions of battles and governments, the boy would officially be so endearingly odd for it to be impossible not to hug him.

Wylan shoved his notebook in his bag without an answer and headed for the door.

Jesper raced after him. It all made sense. Wylan Van Eck wasn’t arrogant or grumpy, he was _eccentric._ Eccentric rich people showed up all the time in movies, and apparently they actually existed and went to Jesper’s school.

“Sit with us at lunch today,” he said.

“No.”

“Come on, I promise none of us are crazy murderers! Crazy, yes, but not murderers.”

“I told you I don’t want to.”

“You’re going to sit by yourself again?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Jesper sighed. “That’s so sad, though.” Despite his insistence that he wanted to be alone, the other boy had spent the previous day’s lunch period looking miserable. “At least get permission to eat somewhere else, or read a book, or—“

Wylan stopped walking so fast Jesper nearly ran into him. “What part of _leave me alone_ don’t you get?!”

Jesper stepped back, stunned. Wylan’s body shook and his eyes were watery. He looked like he might either burst into tears or punch Jesper in the mouth, maybe both.

“I don’t want to sit with you, I don’t want to talk to you, I want you to leave me alone!”

Then he ran down the hallway past giggling students, and Jesper was left alone to wonder what just happened.


	4. Exchange

Wylan locked himself in the bathroom stall and cried. God, he was a mess. He couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out if Jesper even had been making fun of him, only that the boy’s casual suggestion that he _read a book_ unlocked the distress and confusion that had been building up inside of him.

At least now that he’d made an utter fool of himself and screamed at Jesper in public—with a nice-sized audience laughing as he ran away—Jesper was unlikely to ever look at him again. Small blessings.

His phone buzzed several times while he cried, and finally he wiped his face and checked it. The sight of a message from his new Texting Buddy brought a cautious smile to his lips. He wiped his eyes and got out his earbuds. If anyone entered the bathroom, he’d just make sure he stopped talking.

_You there?_

_The teachers won’t mind if you text during breaks and stuff._

_C’mon Cutie Pie, you’re all I’ve got! ;)_

The interest and stupid nickname warmed the cold lump in Wylan’s stomach. He smiled. “I can chat now.”

_YES!_

He giggled. “Miss me?”

_Like crazy._

_Did you?_

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “I like talking to you.”

_I knew I’d win you over. ;)_

_How much time you got? I don’t want to get you in trouble._

“Lots of time.”

_Good!_

_Wait, is this your lunch?_

_Are you right here at lunch with me right now?!_

Wylan froze as he imagined his mysterious friend looking around the cafeteria for him. Of course, it wouldn’t help. He wasn’t in the room at all, and even if he was, half the student body played with their phones during lunch.

Still, it tempted him to go to the cafeteria to see which boy was suddenly interested in what the others were doing…

No. He’d promised himself. It was better this way, with screens and anonymity. He didn’t want to ruin this. He couldn’t lose this, too.

_Hello?_

_Did I scare you away? :(_

The emoji appeared on the screen as a sad, frowning face, and Wylan smiled. “I’m here.” He paused. “I’m not in the cafeteria, though. Actually, I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

There was a moment of silence. And then…

_What’s wrong?_

_Do you need me to beat someone up?_

“No, that’s okay.” He didn’t have the words to explain what happened, at least not without revealing his secret. The thought of Texting Buddy knowing he was too stupid to read closed a vice around his heart. “Someone got me upset, that’s all.”

_You SURE I don’t need to beat someone up?_

_I will if you want me to._

_Or send my friends after them._

_I’m cute and loveable, but I have scary friends._

Wylan laughed. “Just talk to me. That makes me feel better.”

_Any time._

_Talking to you makes me happy, too._

“Really?”

_Yeah._

_It’s been a bad day… but I have you._

_Thanks._

He sighed and took a deep breath. His distress was fading, but that reminded him of their unfinished business from the morning. “I’m sorry I still have your book.”

_It’s okay. What happened?_

Not an easy question to answer. When he arrived at school that morning, he fully intended to walk into the cafeteria and put the book on one of the tables for Texting Buddy to find. But then he got scared.

What if they arrived at the same time? Or what if Texting Buddy was watching to see who he was? What if he was so disappointed when weird Wylan Van Eck showed up that he never texted him again?

If he said those things, he’d sound like an idiot. So he said again, “I’m sorry.”

_What’s wrong?_

As Wylan struggled to find a way to answer that, another message came.

_My friend says you sound really shy._

_So… if you’re scared of running into me, that’s okay._

_I want to see you, but I won’t make you._

_Is there anywhere you’d feel more comfortable leaving the book?_

Whoever Texting Buddy’s friend was, Wylan loved them for telling him that. He wished he had the courage to hang out with them for real. He took a deep breath and thought about the situation. “Band room?”

_Sure, but uh… you’re gonna put my book on a music stand or something?_

He laughed. “No, there are cubbies in the back room where some people keep their instruments and music. Check the spot in the upper left corner along the far wall. Your book will be there after school.”

_Got it._

It would be easy to do without anyone noticing. Wylan had plenty of reasons to go back there, even though he took his flute home with him each day. He could stick the book in the cubby and no one would know it was him.

And he absolutely would not linger to see if any students who weren’t in the band walked in to check the cubbies.

_Is that your cubby?_

_Cubby is a cute word._

“Why am I not surprised you’d say that? You think everything’s cute.”

_Only when it’s about you. ;)_

Wylan rolled his eyes. “And your crush, right?”

_Ugh, you mean Mr. Grumpy?_

_Please. He’s nowhere near as cool as you._

_Or as cute._

“You’ve never even seen me.”

_Is that a hint?_

_Pic?_

“No.” But the more they chatted, the better he felt. He had Texting Buddy, and Texting Buddy liked him. It was enough to drive thoughts of Jesper Fahey out of his mind.

#

Jesper waited until band practice was long over before he went to the band room. Not only would he probably give Cutie Pie a heart attack if he was still there when he entered—it was a bit worrying how scared the kid was of seeing him—but he didn’t want to encounter a certain flutist again so soon, either.

The band room was empty when he reached it, so he walked into the back room and checked the cubbyhole in the far left. Sure enough, his copy of _Shadows in the Moonlight_ was waiting for him.

He took it and put it into his backpack, but he hadn’t spent the time between his final class and the end of band practice just twiddling his thumbs and annoying teachers. He carefully retrieved the red rose he bought and put it in the cubby.

#

When Wylan checked the band room the next morning and found a rose in place of the book, he blushed so hard he had to stay back there to compose himself. He had no idea what to do with it—take it home and put it in a vase?—but the romantic intent was obvious.

Then he checked his messages.

_Did you find my surprise? ;)_

“Yes.”

_What do I get in return?_

“You got the book in return!”

_Aw, I thought you were giving me the book anyway._

_You sure I don’t get anything in exchange?_

_Maybe a kiss? ;)_

“You’re such a flirt,” he whispered into his phone and sent the message.

_No kiss?_

“No kiss.”

_Aw…_

“But thank you for the rose.”

_Like it?_

“I love it.”

_Do you love me? ;)_

Wylan froze. His heart hammered. He played the message again, in case he heard wrong. He had no idea how to respond to that. Was it a serious question? Did Texting Buddy think they knew each other well enough for love?

Another message came. _You there?_

He drew a shaky breath. “I just… don’t know what to say.”

_Whoa, it’s okay._

_I was just teasing._

_I mean I like you a lot._

_Don’t go away._

“So,” he said, thankful his message wouldn’t convey how much his voice shook, “does this mean you’ll keep talking to me even now that you have your erotica back?”

_LOL_

_Yes._

_If you want me to._

_Also you know it’s not really erotica, right?_

His cheeks burned. “It’s not?”

_Just a book for class._

_You seriously didn’t peek?_

_You’re so cute._

Wylan swallowed hard. Texting Buddy thought he was being cute, when it was something he couldn’t help at all. “It’s almost class time,” he said. “I’ll talk to you during lunch.”

As soon as he sent the message, he hurried to class.

#

Jesper ignored Wylan when the younger boy walked into the classroom, and for once it wasn’t an effort. The reason, of course, was the treasure trove in his hand, a glorious collection of texts from someone too proper to text during class but undeniably precious.

And Cutie Pie wanted to stay in touch. Honestly, he seemed so shy, Jesper half-expected him to cut contact once the book had been returned. His nervous question about whether they could still talk made Jesper’s day.

He really wanted to know what his new friend looked like. He got so defensive whenever Jesper called him cute. Did he have low self-esteem? Was he just plain? Did he have some sort of physical deformity that made him consider himself ugly?

It made Jesper worry a little about what to say. It was natural to call him cute, especially when he said so many adorable things, but if the guy really was uncomfortable with his appearance, maybe all the “cute” comments were making him even more scared to meet in person.

And Jesper was already getting far too attached to the mystery boy behind the texts to want anything getting in the way. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’d been staring at nearly every guy he passed in the hallway wondering if it might be him.

He re-read their past few texts and smirked as he thought of the messages he could send for Cutie Pie to discover the next time he checked.

Cutie Pie liked the rose. He liked talking to Jesper. He showed no objections to flirting. Unlike when dealing with a certain person whose beautiful face Jesper was better at ignoring now, he could step up the flirtation.

_I bet I know why you didn’t read it._

_You don’t need erotica when you have fantasies of me._

_Am I right? ;)_

He sent the message and grinned. When his little Cutie Pie read that, he’d admit his secret fantasies and beg Jesper to sweep him into a quiet corner and do unspeakable things to him.

Or more likely, he’d be embarrassed and say something adorable. Either was fine.

#

To Wylan’s relief, Jesper didn’t bother him at all during math. He seemed entirely focused on checking his phone in every spare minute. Probably talking to his real friends, or hoping for messages from whomever he liked, his girlfriend or whatever.

Wylan took a breath and tried not to feel bitter. He didn’t like Jesper anyway. It didn’t matter how that mocking flirtation felt when he thought it might be real. He had Texting Buddy, who actually cared.

And Texting Buddy had the same lunch period, which meant it was possible he was in this grade. He scanned the class as Pre-Calculus ended, curious if any of his classmates might be the boy whose messages were so sweet.

They all seemed so distant, uninterested in Wylan. All the more reason for Texting Buddy never to learn who he was and be disappointed.

In Chemistry, his nerves returned in full force when he entered the room to see the desks pushed together to create blocks. He sat down nervously and tried to avoid Jesper’s gaze.

“If you’ve read the syllabus,” their teacher said when class began, “you know we’ll soon begin group lab work. However, due to incidents in past classes”—his gaze drifted to Jesper, who spread his arms with a wide-eyed look of mock innocence—“I’ve decided against allowing you to pick your own partners. Instead, I’ve put you into pairs.”

He began reading off names, and Wylan closed his eyes. Not Jesper, not Jesper, he couldn’t handle that. Not Jesper, anyone but Jesper.

“Fahey, you’re with Zenik…”

He let out a long breath. Thank God. The red-haired girl was one of Jesper’s friends, so they’d work together just fine. And whoever he was partnered with, he’d endure it. He got his wish.

People always said to be careful what you wished for. A moment later, Wylan understood why.

“Van Eck, you’re with Brekker.”


	5. The Price of Tea in China

Wylan closed his eyes and prayed there was a second Brekker in the class he didn’t know about. Then he resigned himself to his impending death, grabbed his stuff, and left Jesper to go sit next to Kaz.

Kaz gave him a look that suggested he hated everything in the world.

Wylan glanced around the class for any sympathy, but Jesper was checking his phone yet again and the few students who did look at them seemed relieved. He couldn’t be sure if they were relieved they didn’t have to work with Kaz or with _him_ , which made him feel worse than before.

Kaz rapped the top of his desk with his cane.

Wylan squeaked.

“I expect you to do your part.”

He nodded furiously and hoped none of the rumors he heard about Kaz were true. He’d never actually spoken to Kaz, and he’d planned to keep that way. One glare from the older boy was enough to scare most people. Everyone said he had criminal connections, even though he’d never been caught, and he had undue influence in the school. And he always wore black gloves. There were a thousand different theories as to why, but Wylan always privately suspected it was so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints if he killed someone.

As the teacher passed around papers explaining their first assignment, Kaz set his cane down beside their desks. A surge of jealousy made Wylan duck his head and glare at the floor. _Kaz_ wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t spend time hiding his disability or feeling sorry for himself. Instead, he just terrified everyone.

If only Wylan could do that… but the two things weren’t the same, all the learning aids and software programs in the world wouldn’t make him as scary as Kaz with his cane. What would he do, throw his phone at people?

The mental image of himself brandishing his phone with as much swagger as Kaz made Wylan start giggling, and when his terrifying lab partner gave him an inquisitive look, he covered his mouth and tried unsuccessfully to stop. He was quite possibly becoming hysterical.

Their teacher stopped and handed them the assignment description with a bemused expression. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

Wylan choked and wondered if the entire class had mistaken his hysteria for some strange camaraderie with Kaz.

“Are you dying?” Kaz asked.

He shook his head.

“Then let’s get to work.”

Wylan bobbed his head up and down in agreement and picked up the handout. His hands shook enough to rustle the pages. He set the handout back down. At least it had plenty of diagrams and formulas, even if there were also a lot of paragraphs.

Kaz narrowed his eyes. “We’ll eventually be mixing chemicals.”

“Yes.”

“Dangerous chemicals.”

“Yes.” Who thought it was a good idea to pair the youngest kid in class with Kaz for dangerous _anything_?

“Without blowing up ourselves or the lab.”

“Yes.”

Kaz’s gaze rested on him in a way that was either bored or murderous, and it was extremely concerning that he couldn’t tell the difference. “You _will_ do your part.”

It wasn’t a question. Wylan nodded anyway.

“I’m starting to have my doubts about you.”

Starting? He didn’t have doubts before? Wylan frowned, but he didn’t know what to say.

“All you’ve done so far,” Kaz said, “is giggle and nod. Not encouraging.”

Wylan flushed. “Look, uh, maybe we aren’t going to work well together, so if we ask to switch partners now, he’ll probably let us—” He barely had time to blink before Kaz grabbed his cane and smacked the desk in front of him again.

“You’re not getting away that easily. I went through a lot of work to get us paired together.”

Wylan’s mouth opened and closed and nothing came out. He had to be dreaming. Kaz Brekker _wanted_ to work with him? Dreaming. It was the only explanation.

“Why?” he finally managed.

Kaz’s eyebrows twitched. “It’s not hard to figure out why I’d want to work with the best student in class.”

Wylan’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “I’m not—”

“You got straight As in all your science classes last year and when you requested a transfer to Chemistry, you did so well on the exam they gave you that the teachers began discussing merit-based scholarships if you pursue a science degree in college.”

How did he _know_ these things? It was terrifying—but more terrifying still was the fact that someone so scary he had half the school at his beck and call expected Wylan to be good enough for them to excel at these lab assignments. Wylan’s father knew he wasn’t smart, and that meant Wylan knew he wasn’t smart, but somehow Kaz didn’t know he wasn’t smart. And when Kaz found out, he’d probably murder him.

Wylan swallowed. If they were going to switch lab partners, they’d have to do it soon. He beckoned Kaz closer.

Kaz looked as disgusted as if he’d asked him to dive into the sewer.

With that option gone, Wylan settled for leaning closer himself and whispering in the softest voice possible so no one else could hear. “I’m not that smart. I can’t even… read.” Heat rushed to his face.

The good news was, he succeeded in his goal of saying it so quietly no one could hear. The bad news was, that included Kaz, who shot him an annoyed look and said, “Are you talking to yourself or to me?”

Wylan felt like his face was on fire, and the world wouldn’t stop spinning around him. It felt like the start of a panic attack, but he managed to force the words out in a slightly louder whisper. “I—can’t— _read._ ”

Then he cringed and waited for Kaz to laugh at him, or sneer, or demand a different lab partner.

Instead, Kaz’s eyebrows lifted. “And what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”

Wylan blinked. “What? How did China get into this?”

“It’s an expression that means you said something completely irrelevant.”

He opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Then he opened it again. “Did you… hear what I said?”

“Yes…” Kaz looked irritated. “And I fail to see how your ability to read is any more relevant to our Chemistry assignments than it is to the price of tea in China. I’ll read the instructions. You make sure we only blow up the things we’re supposed to blow up.”

Wylan blinked. “Are you saying you don’t care, as long as I can do Chemistry?”

“ _Yes_ , and if you want someone to confide your troubles to, that person is _definitely not me._ Now, are you going to do some work or not?”

He smiled. Then it turned into a grin. “Yes!” He could do Chemistry. He could handle this. And if he and Kaz weren’t at the top of the class for their assignments, it wouldn’t be for lack of trying.

#

At lunch, Wylan sat at the lonely table by himself and stared at the latest messages on his phone.

  _I bet I know why you didn’t read it._

_You don’t need erotica when you have fantasies of me._

_Am I right? ;)_

It was safe to reply in the cafeteria, because no one would look at the weird kid by himself talking into his phone and guess what he was really doing. But what to say… that was the problem.

He wanted to laugh off Texting Buddy’s insinuation and leave it at that, but it was suddenly tempting to tell him the truth. If he could tell _Kaz_ , of all people, why not his anonymous friend?

Wylan took a breath and whispered into his phone, “Actually, I didn’t read it because I can’t read.”

When the reply came, it took him a minute to work up the courage to play it.

_What do you mean?_

“I can’t read. My father hired special tutors, but I can’t learn no matter what I do.” He swallowed hard as his father’s admonitions rang through his mind, and then he sent another message. “I guess I’m just stupid.”

The next few replies came one after the other almost immediately.

_Dude, don’t say that!_

_You seem smart to me. :(_

_So don’t say that, okay?_

_Man, I’m sorry for teasing you about the book._

_You must think I’m a total jerk._

Wylan laughed, startled out of his nervousness by Texting Buddy’s quick apology. The warmth that started building inside of him during their earlier conversations grew stronger. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

_How do you read my texts?_

He explained the software he used to both listen to and send texts, then gave the cafeteria a quick surreptitious glance in case Texting Buddy was looking for someone speaking texts out loud. But even if he was, no one would think to pay attention to Wylan.

_Want me to call instead?_

_You can hear my sexy voice. ;)_

Wylan smiled. “No, that’s okay.”

_Can I ask more questions?_

_I don’t want to seem insensitive._

“Go ahead. I don’t mind.” He paused. “I like talking to you about this.” Something tight and painful inside him was being loosened with each message he sent. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to confide in someone—maybe not since his mother died. He thought he was okay, that hiding it was better than people knowing, but Texting Buddy hadn’t laughed at him yet and he suddenly had a desperate need to tell him everything.

_Are classes tough?_

_I mean, you must have stuff to help you, right?_

“I’m good with things like math and science and music,” he said. “Those classes aren’t a problem. The others are worse, especially English. I pretend to read in class and then find audiobooks for at home or convert the text to audio. I can memorize parts, so that helps.”

_Pretend to read?_

_Because you’re embarrassed, or…_

_I mean, the teachers know, right?_

_They help you?_

_There’s laws and stuff._

A lump formed in Wylan’s throat, and he swallowed. “I don’t _officially_ have a learning disability or anything. My father won’t have me tested and he won’t tell the teachers I have a problem.”

_WTF?!_

“He says I just need to try harder. But he also says I’m stupid, so…” Wylan blinked away tears and wiped his eyes. “I guess he’s ashamed to have a disorder associated with his family, so he’d rather tell people it’s my fault.”

_That’s messed up._

_No offense, but your father sounds like a jackass._

Wylan laughed. “I guess he is.”

_Do you need anything?_

_I’m not the best student, but my friends can help me help you._

“Your scary friends who will beat people up for me?”

_YES!_

_We have all sorts of skills._

_(I’m very skilled. ;))_

_So if you need help, just ask._

“You help just by talking to me. But… thanks. I might take you up on that.”

_Any time, Cutie Pie. ;)_

He hesitated. “So it doesn’t bother you?”

_What?_

_Your father being a jackass?_

_YES that bothers me, I’d like to punch him in the nose!_

“No, I mean this. Talking to me.” He swallowed. “Flirting with me. Even though I can’t read.”

_Duh, of course it doesn’t._

_Besides, I’m pretty sure reading has nothing to do with your ability to do OTHER things, if you know what I mean. ;)_

“Like math and science?”

_…_

“Did you just say ‘dot-dot-dot’?”

_You know, innuendo stops being sexy and just ends up awkward if you have to explain it._

“Dot-dot-dot is an innuendo?”

_Not that part._

“Then what? The part about me—” Wylan replayed Texting Buddy’s earlier comment and turned scarlet. “THOSE kinds of ‘other things’?”

_I’ll read to you while you do “other things.” ;) ;) ;)_

_Romantic?_

Wylan gulped in a deep breath and tried to calm down. If he was blushing while talking to his phone, that might attract attention after all, especially attention from students who liked to make fun of him for everything. But he couldn’t entirely banish the fantasy of Texting Buddy curled up with him in private, reading out loud in his promised sexy voice, one hand tangled in Wylan’s hair as they did _other things_  he was certain no one would knowingly want Wylan Van Eck for.

“I should go,” he said, and quickly sent the message before he could change his mind.

_Noooo_

_I’m sorry!_

_I’m sorry. :(_

_You want me to stop saying things like that?_

No. He didn’t want him to stop at all. Wylan blushed. “No, but don’t say them when I’m in a public place.”

_All right, Cutie Pie, I’ll save my sexy talk for when you’re alone._

_In your room._

_At night._

_;)_

Wylan rolled his eyes, but excitement thrilled through him as he considered the possibility of Texting Buddy following through on that promise.

#

When Wylan got home from school, he went to his father’s office and knocked on the door. His father let him in, but looked faintly irritated at being disturbed. “What is it?”

“I just wanted to let you know,” he said, “that if you don’t want to pay for me to go to college”—no one in town would expect a Van Eck to have trouble with money for college, but his father had made several snide remarks in the past about how he wouldn’t waste money on higher education for a simpleton who couldn’t read—“my teachers are looking into scholarships if I want to pursue math or science.”

After school, he’d approached his Chemistry teacher to see if Kaz’s claim was accurate. Not only was Kaz correct, but it seemed Wylan had made quite an impression on the math teachers as well.

His father lifted his eyes toward the ceiling. “If a college wants to waste its scholarship money on an idiot, it’s not my problem.”

Disappointment flared inside Wylan again, but he crushed it down. How many times would it take before he learned not to hope his accomplishments would impress his father?

“Well,” Wylan said, in what he hoped was a steady voice, “I might look into it.”

“So you want to go to college,” his father said. “In that case, I assume you’ve been making significant progress in your reading lessons.” His cold tone suggested he knew very well the lessons were going no better than usual.

“I—” Wylan stuttered, and his voice reached a higher pitch than usual, but it was too late to stop the words from coming out. “I don’t see how that—how that has anything to do with the price of tea in China!”

Then he turned and ran out of the office, distantly wondering if a single class spent with Kaz Brekker was enough for the older boy to be a bad influence.


	6. A Proper Courtship

_I did some research._

_It sounds like you have dyslexia._

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

_There’s stuff out there that’s supposed to help people with dyslexia learn to read._

Wylan’s momentary appreciation of Texting Buddy doing research for his sake was drowned out by sudden fear.

He dropped his phone and sat hunched at his desk with his arms wrapped around himself as the memories assaulted him. His father’s early encouragement when he encountered difficulty. The tutors. The incentives, rewards if he could learn to read a little more. Then the lectures. Instead of promised rewards, punishments when he failed. Hope in his father’s eyes slowly changing to disappointment and resentment and disgust.

Wylan couldn’t breathe. He grabbed the edge of his desk to steady himself, but the world swayed and wobbled. He tried to take a calming breath and choked instead. He was shaking, sweating, unable to focus. He couldn’t let the same thing happen with Texting Buddy. Those texts were his lifeline, he couldn’t watch them change to disappointment when he didn’t get any better.

When the world finally stabilized, he looked at his phone as though it were a venomous snake. If he never replied, he’d never have to see that disappointment.

But many more messages had popped up on his screen, so he blinked through tears—when had he started crying?—and tapped them shakily to hear what Texting Buddy had to say.

_You’re not interested?_

_It was just a thought._

_*poke*_

_Cutie Pie?_

_Are you there?_

_I guess you had to leave._

_You’re okay, right?_

More time had passed between messages than Wylan expected. When he had a panic attack, he struggled to judge the passage of time. He still didn’t feel quite right, and he wanted to crawl into bed and cry himself to sleep.

But he forced himself to reply. “You can’t fix me.”

_Oh crap._

_I didn’t mean it like that. :(_

_I’m sorry. :(_

_Are you mad?_

_I just want you to be happy._

“What if I’m never able to read? Would you still…” He sent the message without finishing the sentence.

_Think you’re cute?_

_Want you here with me?_

_Read to you?_

_OH! We never finished our talk from earlier._

_You alone now? ;)_

Wylan blushed, but one guess in particular caught his attention. “You want me there with you?”

_All the time._

_Uh, not in a creepy way._

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

_Really? Then can I take you for coffee?_

“What?”

_There’s a nice coffee shop downtown, near the school._

_We could meet there, talk a little._

_Or I could pick you up on my motorcycle if you wanted._

_No?_

Wylan sat frozen, torn between happiness at being invited and anxiety over losing the anonymity that kept him calm.

_If it’s no, that’s okay._

“I’d rather not. I’d like things to stay like this for now.”

_That’s cool._

_No worries._

_And who cares if you can’t read? I like you._

“Thanks.”

_If you ever change your mind, let me know. I'd love to take you out for coffee._

_I bet you like your coffee with lots of sugar. Hot and sweet, just like you. ;)_

He laughed. “You’d be wrong. I like my coffee black.” And it always surprised people, who took one look at him and assumed he wanted a mild, sweet drink.

_Ohoho is that also how you like your men?_

“What?!” He was grateful for the earbuds more than ever.

_Black._

_Like skin color._

_Mine._

_Flirting REALLY doesn’t work when you have to explain it…_

Wylan’s heart skipped a beat and he tried fervently to banish the image of Jesper that popped into his mind. Jesper was annoying. It didn’t matter that he was attractive. And there were plenty of dark-skinned guys at school, so there was no reason at all for him to jump to Jesper as a comparison.

“Sounds sexy,” he said, while trying to picture Texting Buddy as anyone but Jesper.

_WHOA ARE YOU ACTUALLY FLIRTING BACK?!_

He giggled. “I guess I am.”

_So._

_Your turn?_

“Huh?”

_I told you something about how I look._

_Don’t I get anything? :(_

Wylan rubbed his chin. He could refuse, but he liked having another tiny detail to help create an image of Texting Buddy in his mind. Maybe he could give Texting Buddy the same sort of thing, though nothing specific enough to identity him with.

“I have freckles,” he finally said.

_Bet they’re cute. ;)_

_Pic?_

“You dork.” His cheeks burned. “I’m not sending you pictures of my freckles.”

_Something else, then?_

“I actually should get some rest now.”

_I’m sorry!_

“It’s not your fault.” He felt drained from his earlier panic attack, and with his exhaustion came the yearning for someone to hold him. He needed to escape the conversation before he accepted that coffee invitation. “I really am tired. Talk to you tomorrow?”

_Yeah!_

_Sleep well, Cutie Pie. :)_

#

“Come on, Kaz, help me out here.”

Kaz barely looked up from his lunch. “I don’t know what possessed you to come to me for help with your love life, but no.”

Jesper groaned and stabbed his fork into a potato. “All you have to do is tell Wylan I’m a good guy and that he should give me a chance. Or invite him to eat with us.”

“I’m sure he’s dying to eat with me.”

“He might be.” Jesper folded his arms and pouted. “He smiles at you.”

And that really hurt, to look over during Chemistry and see Wylan’s face lit up with a grin for Kaz when all he ever gave Jesper were scowls and frowns.

Nina lifted her own fork and pointed it at him. “You should pay more attention to our lab work and not who Wylan is smiling at.”

“It’s hard to ignore that smile.”

“I manage,” Kaz said.

And that was exactly why he didn’t deserve those smiles.

“Jesper,” Inej said, “I thought you’d given up on Wylan because you’re in love with this guy you’ve been texting.”

His shoulders slumped. “I am. At least, I think so. But I still want to be Wylan’s friend. Besides, I don’t even know who the other guy really is. He gets so nervous when I suggest meeting or ask what he looks like.”

For the past two weeks, he’d tried to coax Cutie Pie into seeing him at lunch, but it was always met with the same polite insistence that he was more comfortable being anonymous. Meanwhile, Wylan was right there, dazzling his way through Pre-Calculus and Chemistry, but he wouldn’t give Jesper the time of day.

If only he could combine Wylan’s presence with Cutie Pie’s friendliness and flirting, he’d have the ideal soulmate.

“Let me get this straight,” Kaz said, his tone humorless. “You’re in love with someone you only know through text messages, who got your number by accident, and who is supposedly a student here but won’t give his name or show you his face.” He glanced at the others. “Is there any way this story does not end with Jesper kidnapped or murdered?”

“It’s not like that!” It was one thing for Jesper to be frustrated with Cutie Pie’s reluctance, but that didn’t give anyone else the right to judge him. “He’s really shy… and I think he has major self-esteem problems. He can’t read, and his jackass father convinced him that makes him stupid and unlovable.”

During one of their evening conversations, Jesper had gotten worried that he might get Cutie Pie into serious trouble, and asked if anything would go wrong if his father caught him sending flirty messages to a guy. After a bit of confusion, they got to the point. Cutie Pie’s father knew he was gay and didn’t care, because he said no one of either sex would ever love someone like him.

Jesper had spent a moment frozen in horror as he read the last comment— _Besides, he’d rather not have me in the gene pool, so I guess it was a huge relief to him_ —and then quickly reassured him he was perfectly loveable and there was nothing wrong with him.

He looked around the table and hoped Cutie Pie wouldn’t be too upset with him for telling his friends. Inej and Nina’s eyes both softened with sympathy, while Kaz’s narrowed with an emotion he couldn’t identify.

Before he could question him, however, Matthias cleared his throat. “All of this sounds wonderful.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow. Nina’s boyfriend rarely joined the conversation except to disapprove of the rest of them, so his praise was unexpected. “What does?”

“This.” The large boy pointed toward Jesper’s phone. “It is a proper courtship.”

“A proper… _courtship_?” he repeated, as Nina burst into giggles. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“You are exchanging messages with your beloved,” he said with an approving nod. “If the letters—or texts—are going well, you should present him with small gifts. Perhaps a handkerchief or a small toy. Then, you may request a chaperoned meeting.”

Jesper stared at him.

Nina was nearly doubled over with laughter and Inej seemed disbelieving, but Matthias looked calm and satisfied, as though finally someone had seen things his way.

And… maybe there was something to it. Even if Cutie Pie didn’t have the same weird hang-ups that Matthias did, a slow, gentle “courtship” might be just what he needed to relax.

“Tell me more,” Jesper said.

Dear Lord, how had one genius sophomore and one mysterious texter gotten smooth-talking Jesper Fahey so muddled that he’d gone to both Kaz Brekker and Matthias Helvar for help?

Matthias launched into an enthusiastic explanation of proper courting habits, and while Jesper dismissed some outright—getting permission from Cutie Pie’s father to see him was _not_ happening—others seemed like they might be worth pursuing. So what if it was slow and old-fashioned? Some people were worth it.

When the lesson ended, Jesper settled back into his seat—until he noticed the strange half-smile on Kaz’s face.

He frowned. “What’s so funny?” He didn’t relish fighting Kaz, but if anyone made fun of his little Cutie Pie, there was going to be a brawl.

But Kaz shook his head. “I’m not solving your problems for you. Figure it out yourself.”

#

Over the next few weeks, Wylan felt like he was in heaven. Texting Buddy stayed true to his word to help, and with his assistance, Wylan climbed up from the bottom of his English and History classes. His other classes were going well, and Kaz wasn’t as scary as he first thought. He asked a lot of questions that made Wylan choose his answers carefully in case the older boy was planning to blow something up, but that didn’t erase his pride that he was _needed_ , he was sought-after. Even some of the others were starting to ask him for help.

He met with study groups from time to time, usually classmates in Pre-Calculus who had caught on after the first quiz that Wylan was in a class with older students because he was really good at math. He didn’t mind, especially since it infuriated his father to hear he’d be coming home late because classmates needed his advice.

And then, Kaz asked him to attend a study group with his friends.

Wylan waited for a moment in case he laughed, because they didn’t seem to be the study group type, but he didn’t laugh, so Wylan accepted.

Instead of meeting in the school or at someone’s house like the other study groups he worked with, they had a secret hideout in the park, which Wylan went to with a little trepidation. As Kaz opened a hidden passage behind a statue and gestured for him to enter, he wondered briefly if anyone but Texting Buddy would miss him if he disappeared.

Inside, the hideout looked somewhat more respectable, and Jesper’s lab partner—Nina Zenik, he remembered—waved to them from where she sat on a worn out couch.

It was as close to an invitation as he was likely to receive, so Wylan wandered vaguely in her direction. A table in front of the couch was covered with bowls of popcorn and other snacks.

“We’ve never really met, have we?” she asked. “I’m Nina.”

“Wylan.” He shook her hand and sat next to her.

“This is Matthias.”

He looked past her at the unsmiling boy seated on her other side and smiled nervously. Matthias was big and Wylan recognized him from the football team, not a good combination in Wylan’s past classes. Sports players were among the people most likely to pick on him.

Wylan glanced around the room in the hope of finding someone less intimidating, but aside from Matthias and Nina the only person there was Kaz—and a dark-haired girl sitting next to him who absolutely had not been there a moment ago. How did she get into the room without him seeing?

Belatedly, he realized Matthias had reached out for a handshake. Wylan quickly shook his hand, face red with embarrassment, and introduced himself to the girl, Inej Ghafa, before he could do anything else humiliating.

Then Jesper popped into the hideout and greeted him with a huge smile. Wylan edged toward the side of the couch, because it really wasn’t big enough for more than three people—but Jesper managed to squeeze into the gap anyway.

Jesper’s body pressed against his made Wylan sweat. He tried to move over to give him some space, but that just meant Jesper could settle in more comfortably. Their legs were touching. Jesper shifted, and then their shoulders were too.

“Hi Wylan.” His grin made Wylan’s heart race. “You’re blushing.”

He scowled and looked away.

After a moment, Jesper got out his phone, checked it, and put it away with a sigh. Wylan wished he could do the same thing. He wanted the comfort he got from conversations with Texting Buddy, to remind himself that there was someone out there who cared about more than getting a rise out of him.

“What are we studying?” Wylan asked, a little too loudly.

“I’d like to study you,” Jesper said with another grin.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

The other boy pouted. “Why do you hate me?”

Because he called him cute when no one would consider Wylan attractive. Because he called him a genius, a lie that hurt too much. Because he called him lucky, when Wylan wished he was anyone else.

And because he did it all with such a casual air, flirting and teasing, he’d probably just laugh if he knew how much those compliments tore him up inside.

Wylan looked at Nina instead. “What are we studying?”

And he ignored Jesper the rest of the night.


	7. When Your Crush Hates You

When Wylan got home after the study session, he exchanged a few words with his father—no, his new friends had not fixed his “problem”—and ran upstairs to check his phone in the privacy of his room.

It had become his sanctuary, a safe place to confide in Texting Buddy about his family, fears, and insecurities, while in turn Texting Buddy admitted to him his worries about the future, struggles with gambling, and unending problems with the boy he had a crush on, which made Wylan more than a little jealous.

Several messages were waiting.

_You around?_

_Miss you. :(_

_Ever have someone hate you and you have absolutely no clue what you did to them?_

_I wish you were here._

_Ever hang out with someone and you think it’ll be GREAT and you can finally solve your problems and it turns out to be the most awkward thing in the world?_

_Super awkwardness fun tonight._

_“Fun.”_

_Are you still not there? T_T_

Wylan listened to all the messages and then curled up in his bed to reply. “Sorry, I was with some people from school.”

_Cutie Pie lives!_

_Did you have fun?_

“I don’t know.”

_Doesn’t sound fun._

“It was a little uncomfortable. I don’t know how to act around people.”

_Except me! ;)_

“If I met you in person, I’d probably be awkward then, too.”

_Feel free to test that theory any time._

_< 3_

Wylan frowned as his phone read the last message, and then he looked at it on the screen. “Is that a heart?”

_Yes._

_My heart. And my love._

_< 3_

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “I wish I spent tonight talking to you instead.”

_So do I._

“What are you doing now that your awkward night is over?”

_Got the TV on, but I’m not really watching. Just wanna talk to you._

_What about you?_

“Same. I’m lying in bed talking to you.”

_Oooh, you’re talking to me in bed? ;)_

“Sometimes I think you have a one-track mind.”

_I do not!_

_My mind has many tracks. They just all lead back to you._

“Uh-huh.”

_Like right now, picturing you in bed. ;)_

He grinned. “Like I said, one-track mind.”

_Distract me from my awkward evening! What do you wear when you sleep?_

_T-shirt?_

_Boxers?_

_Nothing…? ;)_

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Wylan said, “but I wear pajamas.”

_Sounds cute!_

_I wanna see!_

_Pic! Pic!_

He laughed, but then paused. This had become a familiar routine over the past weeks, him mentioning something and Texting Buddy begging for a picture. It always ended with Wylan refusing and Texting Buddy pouting and then they moved on to discuss something else.

Wouldn’t he be surprised if Wylan switched it up for a change? He got up and grabbed his favorite pajamas from the dresser drawer, then arranged them on the bedspread. He took a quick picture and sent it.

_HOLY CRAP YOU DID IT!_

He held his breath and waited, afraid Texting Buddy might find his pajamas childish—they were blue and decorated with spaceships, not the sort of thing guys his age were supposed to wear according to his father, but Wylan loved them. They made him dream of blasting off to a faraway place where he could escape everyone.

_Pretty cute, but there’s one thing wrong with them._

“Wrong?”

_There’s no Cutie Pie in them!_

_Pajamas - Cutie Pie = :(_

Relieved he didn’t mind what they looked like, Wylan opened his mouth to reply, but another message came almost immediately.

_OMG IF YOU’RE NOT WEARING THEM DOES THAT MEAN YOU’RE NAKED RIGHT NOW???_

He covered his mouth to stifle his laughter and took a moment to compose himself before he replied. “Sorry again, but I just haven’t changed yet.”

_Uh-huh, sure._

_I’m just going to sit here and imagine you texting me while naked._

Wylan blushed. “Don’t get us confused. I bet you’re the one who texts while naked.”

_Does this mean you’re picturing me naked?_

_Is it hot?_

His blushed deepened, and he sat in silence as he tried to decide whether he should respond with “Very hot,” which was only partly accurate since he didn’t know what Texting Buddy looked like, or try to change the subject.

But if he took too long to reply, Texting Buddy might stop flirting like this. Wylan didn’t want him to think he disliked the conversation.

“Don’t try to distract me,” he said. “It’s your turn.”

_What?_

“Your turn. I sent you a picture, so what do I get?”

_You want a picture of me?!_

_Wait_

_If I’m following this right_

_You said I text naked and then asked for a picture._

“What? No! Not what I meant!”

_LOL_

When his phone buzzed with a picture message, he was almost afraid to check it, but a warm sensation built in his heart as he realized he trusted Texting Buddy to not send anything inappropriate without permission.

The picture turned out to be of dark hands curled together to form a heart.

Wylan blushed. “Are those your hands?”

_Yes._

_Like them? ;)_

“Yes.”

It was a silly thing to get excited over. It was just a pair of hands, nothing more. But the heart meant a lot, and the more he stared at the strong fingers that formed it, the more he wanted to know what they would feel like against his skin. And the more tempted he was to scour the rest of the picture for any clues about Texting Buddy’s identity.

He finally stopped staring and listened to the next message.

_Do you like the name Cutie Pie?_

“It’s a little silly.”

_Would you rather something else?_

_How about Sexy Boy?_

“Cutie Pie might not be so bad after all.”

_Love?_

_I could call you Love._

_Because you’re my Love. <3_

His heart fluttered, but he sighed. “What about your crush?”

_You’re my only crush, Love._

“Come on, I know there’s that other kid.”

_No need to feel threatened by Mr. Not Interested._

“What if he got interested? Then you’d have him.” His throat closed over the rest of what he wanted to say. And no one would choose Wylan if the other option was interested.

_I’d pick you._

“You wouldn’t.”

_I would._

“You talk about him all the time,” Wylan said. “It bothers you so much that he doesn’t like you. If he did… bye-bye Cutie Pie.”

_NO_

_NO “bye-bye Cutie Pie”!_

_(And your new name is Love.)_

_I’m serious._

_I had a crush on him, but now I just kinda wish we could be friends or something. And I want to know why he hates me._

“You’re sure you didn’t do anything? Also, ‘Love’ is a really awkward nickname.”

_I’m sure!_

_Maybe I flirted too much?_

_But then I tried just complimenting him._

_He always gets all weird and mad. I say something nice and he yells at me to leave him alone._

Wylan scratched his head. It obviously bothered Texting Buddy quite a bit, and he wanted him to be happy. Besides, he’d been on the other side of that situation. “Is he shy?”

_Very._

“Maybe he thinks you’re being sarcastic.”

_Huh?_

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He confided a lot of secrets in Texting Buddy, but this went to a level he hadn’t told him before. “You know I have self-esteem problems, right?”

_Yes. :(_

“Well, I have trouble telling compliments from insults. Someone says something nice, but then my brain tells me they were being sarcastic or saying it out of pity. It really messes me up. I want to believe them, but there’s this part of me saying no one would ever say that about me and mean it.”

_You okay? :(_

_I mean the things I say to you…_

“Thank you.” He took another breath. “But maybe your crush is the same way. Maybe his brain tells him you’re making fun of him, and that’s why he hates you. Try talking to him again, but this time make it clear that you like him. Don’t let his doubts tell him you’re lying.”

_Why are you helping?_

_I thought you were afraid he’d steal me away._

“I am,” he whispered. “I’m really scared of losing you.”

_Don’t be. :(_

“But I’ve also been in that position. I know how bad it hurts to feel that way. It feels like someone’s cutting you up inside. I want him to know you’re not making fun of him.”

_So I should tell him I genuinely want to be his friend._

_Friend. Nothing more._

_I promise, you’re the only one in my heart now._

Wylan smiled. “I’m glad. You… are the only one in my heart, too.”

_< 3_

Despite the voice in the back of his mind that told him he’d sabotaged his own efforts if he brought Texting Buddy and his crush together, Wylan knew he did the right thing.

He fell asleep looking at the photo of the hands forming a heart just for him.

#

Wylan felt queasy all day long. He checked his phone in every free moment, because he’d risk people realizing he couldn’t read his texts if it meant he learned sooner what happened with Texting Buddy.

What if the other kid liked him? What if Texting Buddy decided an in-person relationship was better than an anonymous one after all? What if he laughed at Wylan for believing him?

At least he wasn’t the only one having a bad day. Jesper seemed unaccountably nervous. All through Pre-Calculus, he kept glancing at Wylan. At one point he passed a note, which Wylan promptly shoved back at him.

Maybe one of Jesper’s friends had yelled at him after the study session. The thought made Wylan feel better, but only until he checked his phone again. Still nothing. How long would Texting Buddy wait before trying?

In Chemistry, he was so distracted he thought Kaz would hit him with his cane if he spaced out one more time, but at least the teacher didn’t say anything, too busy reprimanding Jesper for not paying attention.

By lunch, Wylan's stomach was churning too much for him to eat. He avoided the cafeteria and hid in the bathroom, where he finally couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Have you told him yet?” He sent the message.

_Nervous._

“Why are you nervous if you don’t have a crush on him anymore?”

_Jealous?_

“Yes.”

_I’m sorry. :(_

_He just makes me nervous… especially since I must have hurt him if he thinks I was making fun of him, like you said._

_And I don’t want to have an audience._

_That would be worse, right?_

_But if I ask to talk to him alone, he might have a heart attack._

“You’re making excuses.”

_I know._

“Walk up to him right now and tell him.”

_Bossy!_

_(I like it.)_

_;)_

“You’re stalling, Texting Buddy.”

_Fine, Love, I’ll do it now._

He held his breath and waited. His hands went clammy when the next message arrived.

_I’m 100% serious with this, he’s not here._

“What?”

_I was gonna tell him, honest!_

“The next time you see him, then.”

_Yes, Love._

_So, is that how you like it? Giving orders? ;)_

“You’re incorrigible.”

_No idea what that means, but if you said it, I accept it. ;)_

Wylan rolled his eyes.

#

At the end of the day, Wylan stopped at his locker to get his flute, as well as something special. Lately, Texting Buddy had taken to leaving him gifts in the band room cubby. They were a bit odd, an embroidered handkerchief and a little stuffed bear, which made him think Texting Buddy was getting dating advice from an old book on courtship, but it was the thought that counted. He’d taken them home and hidden them in his dresser drawer.

To return the favor, he’d bought a box of chocolates. Giving food as an anonymous stranger might seem sketchy, but it was sealed, so Texting Buddy would probably be okay with it.

He pulled the box from his locker—and immediately hid it in his bag as he realized someone was standing right beside him.

Wylan’s heart hammered as he looked up at Jesper. If that jerk asked him who the chocolate was for or made some other smart remark, he was going to throw caution to the wind and punch him.

But Jesper didn’t look like he’d even noticed the box. The same nervousness from earlier was back, and his gaze darted all over the place while his fingers drummed against his arms. “Wylan?”

“Yes?” he said stiffly.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat and met Wylan’s gaze with clear gray eyes. “I just wanted you to know, I really do think you’re a cool guy.”

Wylan stopped breathing.

“All those things I’ve said to you, I meant them. I wasn’t trying to put you down or make you uncomfortable.”

This couldn’t be what it sounded like. It had to be a coincidence.

“So… can we start over? For real? I’d like to be your friend.”

Wylan took a step back and smashed into the lockers. Jesper reached out a hand to steady him, but the world was spinning. He looked down at the hand on his arm. Of course it was the same hand. He’d memorized every detail of that photo.

He drew in a sharp breath and tried not to panic. Texting Buddy was Jesper Fahey. Wylan was Jesper’s crush.

All those times he thought he was making fun of him—

The person he confided his deepest secrets in—

His only friend and the classmate he hated—

It was too much to handle. Wylan slammed his locker shut and fled.


	8. The Van Eck Family

_It didn’t work._

_I really don’t know what happened._

_I told him I meant what I said and wanted to be his friend, but he ran away from me._

_He looked like he was having a panic attack or something._

_I don’t know what I did wrong._

_Any ideas?_

Jesper paced in the hall and checked his phone for the thousandth time since his disastrous conversation by Wylan’s locker.

Then he ran over the events in his mind again and searched for any sign of how he messed up. Even with new insight into Wylan’s potential thought process, he didn’t understand what happened.

Wylan had looked… scared.

Jesper walked to the bathroom and frowned at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t a scary guy. In fact, he always thought he was good-looking, and enough people agreed for him to know it wasn’t complete egoism. So then why did he scare Wylan? The kid worked with Kaz every day in Chemistry, but a friendly word from Jesper made him run away?

He returned to the hallway and checked his phone again. No answer.

_C’mon Love, feeling lonely and confused here._

_Okay, you were right, maybe “Love” is a little awkward as a nickname._

_I’m going back to Cutie Pie for now. Okay, Cutie Pie? ;)_

_(But you’re still my love.)_

After he sent the messages, he checked the time. Band practice should be over soon. As soon as he knew Wylan got there all right, he’d go home. Several times he considered peeking into the band room to check, but he was worried about how the boy might react if he noticed.

Instead he’d lurked around awkwardly for the past hour. He wished he could shake off his concerns and leave, but Wylan had looked like there might be something really wrong.

Jesper sent another message. _He ran off after I talked to him, and he seemed really upset. I’m worried about him._

No response.

After what happened with Wylan, he needed to talk to someone, but Cutie Pie was apparently not available. Maybe he was in band. It would make things a lot easier—he could send a reply saying Wylan was there.

Noise from down the hall alerted Jesper to the end of band practice. He peeked around the corner as the students left. No sign of a cute flutist anywhere.

Seriously concerned, Jesper headed to the band room. He looked through the doors. There were a few stragglers, but no Wylan unless he was back by the cubbyholes. The band instructor stood at the front of the room.

Jesper entered and strode toward him. “Excuse me, was Wylan Van Eck here today?”

“No.” The instructor also looked concerned. “It’s not like him to miss practice.”

“I saw him earlier. He didn’t look well.”

“He must have gone home sick.”

“Must have.”

Jesper retreated from the band room with his thoughts in a blur. That was it, Wylan probably went home, but he couldn’t shake the mental image of the poor kid wandering around alone and upset—and it might be his fault, but he didn’t know why.

Still no messages from Cutie Pie. He sent another one.

_Do you know Wylan Van Eck? Have you seen him around?_

Then he texted his friends to ask them. He didn’t expect a reply from Kaz, who never texted anyone, but Inej replied within a minute. _I saw him leave the school about an hour ago, but I don’t know where he went after that._

Jesper once again pictured the younger boy alone in the streets without anyone who cared about him knowing where he was. He paced in indecision until he spotted a girl from Wylan’s grade. He hurried over to her. “Do you know Wylan?”

She frowned at him. “He’s in some of my classes. Why?”

“Any idea where he is?”

“Why should I keep track of him?”

He gritted his teeth. “Fine, then can you tell me who some of his friends are?”

She shrugged. “He keeps to himself.”

“Oh…”

The girl moved on, and Jesper stared after her. Maybe she just didn’t pay attention to him… or maybe Wylan actually had no friends. Jesper never considered that before. He’d assumed Wylan’s loneliness at lunch was due to being with the older students, and that he had a circle of friends to hang out with from his own grade.

But that fit right in with what Cutie Pie suggested the night before. If Wylan had trouble making friends, no wonder he doubted Jesper’s intentions.

Jesper took a deep breath. He checked his phone again. Nina and Matthias hadn’t seen him, and Cutie Pie still wasn’t responding. Well, he had one last thing to try. One last crazy idea.

Wylan was probably fine and would hate him for doing this. But he couldn’t forget how scared and vulnerable the younger boy looked when he ran away. Just in case he needed help, Jesper had to check.

#

A servant led Jesper to a parlor inside the Van Eck mansion. He looked around at the high ceilings and fancy furniture and whistled. He knew Wylan’s family was rich, but damn, this place was impressive.

Maybe that was it. He thought about the small apartment where he and his dad lived, and his shoulders drooped. Maybe he was too rough around the edges for Wylan to be comfortable with him.

The servant bowed. “I’ll let Master Van Eck know you’re here.”

“Uh”—Jesper reached out a hand to stop him—“how about, uh… Young Master Van Eck?” They said things like that in movies, he was sure of it. “Wylan. I just need to see Wylan.”

The servant left without answering.

Jesper shoved his hands in his pockets and paced nervously. This was _not_ what he had in mind when he rode his motorcycle to the Van Eck mansion. He envisioned himself politely asking whoever opened the door if Wylan was home, the person telling him yes, and Jesper leaving.

He did not expect to be ushered inside and told to wait in the parlor.

Still, if luck was on his side for once, the rest would go smoothly. The parlor door would open, Wylan would walk in, and Jesper would assure him he just wanted to make sure he was okay. They probably still wouldn’t be friends, but at least he’d know he made it home.

The door opened.

Luck was not on his side.

For one startled moment, Jesper stared at the man who walked in, but then he regained his composure and held out his hand. “You must be Wylan’s father. I’m Jesper.”

Jan Van Eck regarded him like he was a mangy animal brought into the parlor by mistake. “You’re one of Wylan’s… friends?” He put the slightest emphasis on the word _friends_ , enough to suggest he considered it unlikely.

Jesper held his hand out a moment longer and then awkwardly withdrew it. “We’re classmates.”

“Do you need something?”

He and his son had facial features in common, but that was where the similarities ended. Even at his grumpiest, Wylan had warmth to him—he shone like the sun and made it hard for Jesper to stay away. His father had no warmth.

“Can I talk to Wylan?” Jesper asked.

“He didn’t say he was expecting anyone.”

“Actually, I was worried about him. He didn’t look well after class, so I—”

“The boy is fine.”

Jesper’s skin prickled. Normal people showed concern for their children, or at least sounded fond when assuring worried friends they were okay. Van Eck’s tone implied the only thing more inconvenient than Jesper’s presence was the possibility of Wylan being sick.

“Can I talk to him?” he asked again.

“He has homework.”

“It’ll just be a minute.”

“Wylan can spend time with his _friends_ when his performance improves. Until then, I see no reason to permit him waste time either with you or his so-called study groups when they obviously aren’t doing him any good.”

“He’s at the top of our class in Chemistry and Pre-Calc,” Jesper said, unsure how Wylan’s own father could have missed his brilliance.

“His other classes aren’t so fortunate.”

There was something seriously wrong with this guy. “He’s taking classes with the grade above his and doing better than any of us. Can't you cut him a little slack?”

“It is hardly your place to tell me how to raise my son. If you’re finished, I suggest you leave.”

“Okay then…” Jesper edged toward the parlor door. “Uh, tell him I came by…”

Van Eck folded his arms. “Indeed.”

Another servant appeared at Jesper’s side and escorted him back to the entrance. He felt a bit like he was being led away by security. In the main hall, they passed a young woman who smiled at him. “Did you hear the news? I’m going to have a baby!”

“Congratulations,” he said and wondered who in the world she was.

She beamed and continued past as though announcing her pregnancy to him was the most natural thing in the world. Jesper shook his head. Life might be easier if he gave up on understanding the entire Van Eck family.

#

By the time Jesper got back home, he had a reply on his phone from Cutie Pie. It was very short. _Wylan went home._

Jesper sent back a quick, _Yeah, I know_ and took his phone to his room. He flopped onto his bed and told himself to stop worrying about Wylan. At least Cutie Pie was talking again.

_Why were you looking for him?_

He was surprised Cutie Pie hadn’t put the pieces together already. _Okay, you got me. He’s my crush._

_Former crush._

_It’s all you now. <3_

But for some reason, Cutie Pie was still fixated on the matter of Wylan. _If you told him and he still doesn’t like you, why were you looking for him?_

Jesper smirked. _Jealous? I was worried about him, that’s all._

The reply that came was very short. _Oh._

_Cutie Pie? Are you okay?_

Another short reply. _Long day._

_C’mon, don’t be jealous._

It took a long time for Cutie Pie to answer. _I’m tired. I’m not really up for talking tonight._

_Oh man,_ Jesper said, _you’re going to leave me tonight? Tonight? I’ve had guys running from me in the hallway, creepy businessmen glaring at me in their mansions, it’s been a weird day._

A pause. _Creepy businessmen?_

_I met Wylan’s dad_ , he said.

Three responses came in a row so fast, Jesper imagined Cutie Pie shouting into his phone.

_What?_

_What?!_

_You WHAT?!_

He grinned. After the awkward mansion encounter, that was how he’d react to someone announcing they met Jan Van Eck, too. _I take it you’ve met him?_

_You could say that,_ Cutie Pie said. _What did you think of him?_

Jan Van Eck seemed like a psychopath who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children, especially someone as nervous and gentle as Wylan. But Jesper didn’t say that. Cutie Pie was jealous enough of Wylan as it was.

Instead, he said, _Have you ever seen that old show The Addams Family? They’ve got nothing on the Van Eck Family._

_Like, the Addams Family is friendly, right? At least to each other? They care about each other? I didn’t get that feeling from Van Eck. At all. It was super creepy._

And he wasn’t sure what to make of the woman he met. She seemed too young to be Wylan’s mother. Did he have an older sister? Or had Van Eck remarried? If so, he hoped she did it for the money, because he couldn’t imagine the man he met in the parlor showing any love.

_Okay,_ Cutie Pie’s next message said, _but how did you meet him? Where? When? Why???_

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up. _Like I said, I was worried about Wylan. Didn’t get your text in time, so I went to his house to make sure he got home okay._

Another pause. _Did he?_

_His dad said he did. He wouldn’t let me see him though._

_Why not?_ Cutie Pie asked.

_Something about Wylan not being allowed to hang out with friends until he gets his grades up, which is weird, because I’m in classes with him and he seems really smart._

Cutie Pie didn’t reply. Jesper waited a long time, but there was still no answer. Finally, he sent another message.

_Okay, enough about Wylan, let’s talk about you. ;)_

_You there?_

About ten minutes passed, and then he finally got a response. _What did you say that show was called?_

Jesper laughed. _You mean The Addams Family??_

_Is it funny?_ Cutie Pie asked. _I need a comedy tonight._

_It’s not bad, but I like others more._

The rest of the night involved him recommending TV shows to Cutie Pie, who looked them up online. He seemed in need of a distraction—to Jesper’s dismay, his flirting was brushed aside for once—and was particularly interested in comedies with weird family dynamics. Maybe the comments about Van Eck hit too close to home with Cutie Pie’s own situation.

_I’m here for you_ , Jesper said, once they found a few shows for him to try. _Whenever you need something, come to me._

Cutie Pie thanked him, but he was quiet the rest of the night, and Jesper couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong.


	9. Fear

Wylan’s life was falling to pieces.

The logical part of his mind argued that things were better, not worse. Jesper cared about him. He didn’t know he was “Cutie Pie,” but he worried about him and even visited to make sure he was okay.

On the other hand, it threw Wylan’s texting friendship into disarray. Every time he sent an anonymous message, he felt like he was lying—especially when he discussed himself in the third person.

He needed to tell Jesper the truth.

But his fears threatened to overwhelm him. What if Jesper was angry over the way he acted? What if Jesper was only joking about his crush? What if Jesper _knew_ he was Wylan, and it was all a twisted prank to laugh at him when he revealed himself?

Irrational, irrational, he knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t stop.

And what Jesper said about the visit to his house unnerved him, too. After their conversation by the lockers, Wylan ran straight home, too upset to attend band practice. He went to his room without even seeing his father.

But his father told Jesper he was doing his homework and wasn’t allowed to see his friends. And he never said a word to Wylan about it afterwards.

It was disturbing. Wylan had heard a motorcycle outside, but thought nothing of it. He wished he’d looked out the window. If he saw Jesper, maybe he would have gone downstairs to see him.

And what if this sort of thing had happened before? No one from school had ever visited him—as far as he knew.

If not for the texts, he’d never have known Jesper cared enough to check on him.

#

Things only got worse.

“You started a fire in the Chemistry lab?!” A vein pulsed in Jan Van Eck’s forehead.

Wylan took a deep breath and tried not to panic. “It was a minor fire—”

“So much for being good at science.”

He flinched.

It had been one of the worst days of his life. Pre-Calculus was a disaster because he couldn’t look at Jesper without feeling the start of a panic attack, but during Chemistry, he thought it was safe to peek at the other boy.

Jesper looked back at him, straight into his eyes, and the sudden panic— _he knows, he must know!_ —made Wylan drop the chemicals he was working with and set the top of their desk on fire.

Kaz was surprisingly calm about it, although he made it clear that he expected Wylan to get a grip and not repeat the incident, and he said it in such a way to suggest he knew exactly what was going on.

But Wylan’s father was not nearly as understanding. He seemed torn between two emotions: anger that the school called him to say his son caused a problem, and glee that he could tear down one of Wylan’s few sources of pride.

“Perhaps we should have you taken out of that class before you hurt someone,” he said. “They should know better than to let someone handle chemicals when he can’t even read the instructions.”

“Stop,” Wylan whispered.

“Stop? This isn’t my fault.”

“It might not be this bad if you’d admit I need help!”

He had one moment to wonder where he found the courage to shout at his father, and then in the next moment he was on the ground, his face split by stinging pain where his father had hit him.

“Don’t you ever raise your voice to me.”

Wylan rubbed his cheek and blinked away tears.

“Go to your room. I don’t want to see you down here again for the rest of the night.”

“But I haven’t—”

“Eaten? You’ll survive missing one meal.”

Wylan slowly got to his feet and trudged toward the door.

“Take this time to practice your reading, Wylan. If you don’t improve, maybe I’ll consider the possibility that you _do_ need help.”

It should have been a reassurance.

The words sounded right.

But something in his father’s voice told Wylan that he didn’t want him to consider that at all.

#

_Cutie Pie?_

_You okay?_

_Everything okay?_

#

“Did you practice, Wylan?”

“I tried.” He hated the quaver in his voice, but he felt like he might cry.

Although he’d wanted the comfort that came from talking to Jesper, he couldn’t bring himself to face the messages the night before. And with how ominous his father’s suggestion sounded, Wylan had forced himself to practice so he could honestly say he did. He sat with his textbooks in front of him for hours, first listening to the audiobook versions and then looking at the lines. In that time, he managed to memorize the starts of the textbooks, but nothing more.

His father pushed a thin book across his desk toward him.

Wylan struggled to breathe. He wanted to turn around and run from the office.

“Pick it up.”

It would be worse if he disobeyed. He picked up the book. From the colorful image on the front cover, it was a children’s book.

“Open it,” his father said, his voice scathing. “Do I need to explain every step to you?”

Wylan opened it to the first page with numb fingers. The room was spinning, but he tried to keep a grip. His father hadn’t done this to him in years, seemingly content to mock him and criticize his grades. What made him do it again?

“Read the first page to me, Wylan.”

It wasn’t one of the books he’d memorized. His father must have got it for that reason, aware of his trick and ready to counter it.

“The first sentence, then.”

Wylan blinked through teary eyes at the page and prayed for a miracle that would turn those letters into what he was supposed to see. At last, he shook his head and put it down. “I can’t,” he whispered. “You know I can’t.”

“Are you telling me that after all this time, you still can’t read a simple children’s book?”

Maybe if he could breathe right. Maybe if he was with someone who loved him and wanted him to succeed, instead of someone who wanted to hurt him. Maybe if he felt comfortable and safe, not scared out of his mind about what was happening.

Maybe then he’d be able to struggle through the sentence. If Jesper was with him, holding him, encouraging him—but Jesper would never force him to do this. He said he didn’t care if Wylan could read.

He should have accepted Jesper’s offer that night. Not to get coffee, but the motorcycle ride. He should have jumped on Jesper’s motorcycle and asked him to drive far, far away.

Stupid. Where would they go? Jesper would have had to bring him back, and then he’d still be here, trembling in his father’s office.

“I’m very disappointed,” his father said. “Clearly school isn’t helping you at all.”

Wylan’s hands clenched into fists. He tried to focus on the surprised expressions on his classmates’ faces when he explained their Pre-Calculus homework, his glow of delight when he and Kaz finished their Chemistry assignment ahead of everyone else, the way everything fit together in gentle harmony when he played in the band, and the love and security Jesper promised him.

“You must need more help than I thought.”

For a moment, he dared to hope. Maybe his father had finally seen sense and would tell the school Wylan had a learning disability.

“I’ve been researching other options. There are special institutions out there for people like you.”

Wylan’s stomach dropped.

“The one I looked into is on the other side of the country, unfortunately.” He didn’t sound like he considered it unfortunate at all. “It teaches people like you life skills, so you don’t waste your time on academics you can’t understand.”

“I understand things just fine.” Wylan wanted to shout, but his voice came out as a hoarse, scared whisper. “I don’t want to leave school. Please don’t send me away…”

His father’s eyes glittered. “Then I suggest you prove me wrong.”

#

Jesper checked his phone a few times every hour just in case he missed a message. He also did his best to avoid Wylan. The previous day, just looking at him was enough to make him drop some chemicals. What in the world had he done to upset Wylan that badly?

And Cutie Pie hadn’t responded to him at all in the past two days. It was worrying. Such a change in behavior made him wonder if something bad happened.

During lunch, he sent a tentative, _Did I do something?_ and got no response.

His friends were less than helpful. Inej told him to make sure he was there for his friend when he needed support, Nina said talking about Wylan so much might have made Cutie Pie jealous, Matthias suggested voicemail with a serenade, and Kaz just shook his head and refused to explain why.

At the end of the day, as Jesper got his books from his locker, he finally got a reply to his repeated queries. _Sorry. Bad day._

He sent a quick response. _You’re okay, though, right?_

A long silence and then a one-word message that made his heart stop. _No._

_What’s wrong?_ he asked.

_If you need space, that’s okay._

_But if you need to talk, I’m here._

_(Need me to beat someone up this time?)_

He waited for several agonizing minutes while he thought about the problem with wanting to help and comfort someone he never met in person, and then a paragraph showed up on his phone.

_My father called me into his office. He gave me a book and told me to read the first page to him. I couldn’t. Of course I couldn’t. I tried! I tried so hard! And he was… he wasn’t even angry, just acting like he was disappointed in me and he said clearly things aren’t working out… He said if school isn’t helping me I must need more help and he told me about a special institution far away where people like me can learn life skills instead of wasting our time on academics._

Jesper drew in a deep breath and directed his stream of expletives at the school lockers instead of typing them out. Cutie Pie needed him to be calm right now.

_Take a deep breath._

_He can’t really do that to you._

_He’d have to get you tested, and then they’d know that wasn’t what you needed._

After a few minutes, in which he imagined sending Kaz after Cutie Pie’s father to teach him a lesson, another paragraph came.

_I hope he said it just to mess with me, but it’s WORKING! I can hardly think straight. I’m screwing everything up today, and the worse I do in school, the more he’ll be able to say I’m stupid and shouldn’t be here. Are you sure he can’t? Are you really sure? He’s powerful; he can make things happen! I don’t want to be sent away!_

Jesper didn’t have a good answer for him. He wanted to believe it was impossible for someone to be sent away like that, but if Cutie Pie's father really did have undue influence over the right people…

So instead, he said, _You need to get in touch with someone who can help you._

_I_ _can't,_ the next message said. _I’m scared._

He wished he could do something more concrete to help. _I think someone needs a hug. *hug*_

_Too bad virtual hugs aren’t as warm,_ Cutie Pie said.

Jesper smiled, but his heart hurt. _Need a real one? Just name the time and place._ He remembered Matthias’s courtship advice and added a dubious, _With a chaperone, if you want._

Cutie Pie would never take him up on the offer, but when he heard stories like this, he just wanted to swoop in like an avenging angel and take him away from the people who hurt him. He wanted to hold him until the pain went away and he knew he was loved.

_You would do that for me?_  

His heart skipped a beat. _Yes._

_Can we meet in the band room? Maybe 10 minutes after band practice ends so there aren’t people watching us? Please?_

Jesper never sent a text so fast in his life. _Yes_ _!_

#

What was he doing?

Wylan felt sick through all of band practice, and the moment it ended, his hands started shaking. He put his flute and music away and sat down to wait.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes and Jesper would walk in.

It wasn’t too late to send a message saying he changed his mind. Wylan took a deep breath and tried to imagine what Jesper would say when he saw him. Would he be pleased? Angry? Would he just give him the hug and not say anything at all?

Or worse, would he assume he was looking for someone else? Would he glance right past Wylan, because his “cutie pie” couldn’t possibly be him?

It was becoming harder and harder to breathe.

_No one would ever love someone like you, Wylan._ He couldn’t tell if the voice ringing through his head was his own or his father’s.

Their texting gave him a dream to cling to. It showed him a world where he was like anyone else, with a friend he could depend on, a future where he wasn’t alone.

Jesper said his crush on Wylan was over. What if that was permanent? If he learned it was him, the illusion might shatter.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. A familiar tall silhouette appeared outside the door. Wylan felt the world spinning and quickly grabbed his flute case and opened it again.

#

Jesper held his breath as he pushed open the band room door. Inside, he could see the band instructor in his office just off from the main room—and Wylan seated all by himself with his flute in his lap and a cleaning cloth in his hand.

Wylan? Was Cutie Pie Wylan? It seemed impossible, yet at the same time it made sense. Cutie Pie’s silences and upset moods coincided with Wylan’s strange behavior, they both had lousy fathers, and they were both good at math and science.

They also were both adorable, and it would completely resolve his lingering attraction to Wylan, so Jesper’s heart skipped a beat as he walked up to the boy. “Hi?” he said, embarrassed at how timid his voice sounded.

Wylan’s head snapped up, his face filled with something close to panic. “Hi, sorry, I’ll be out of your way soon, I’m a little late leaving, but I’ll be out of here soon!”

Jesper lifted his hands. “It’s okay.”

Right, of course they couldn’t be the same person. Wylan was scared to death of him. Although if he didn’t know it was him… He’d never considered the unfortunate possibility that Cutie Pie knew him in person but disliked him.

“I’m supposed to meet someone here. You’re… not meeting someone, are you?”

“No!” His use of the cleaning cloth was so frantic, it looked like he wanted to wear a hole in the instrument. “I’m just polishing my flute!”

_You can polish_ my _flute any time you want._ Jesper bit back the comment before it could escape, although he couldn’t help a twitch of his eyebrows that made Wylan’s face turn pink.

He glanced back toward the cubbies. “Is anyone else still here?”

Wylan shook his head.

“Mind if I wait?”

He shook his head a second time, but his hands trembled so badly he nearly dropped the instrument.

Jesper eased into the seat next to him. “Wylan, are you afraid of me?”

“No.” It was barely audible.

He reached out cautiously to touch the other boy’s shoulder. Wylan didn’t move away, but a quiver ran through his whole body. His eyes were red-rimmed like he’d been crying, with dark circles underneath them, and there was a faint red mark on his face like someone had hit him.

Ever since the school year began, Jesper had wondered what he did to make Wylan hate him, but now he suspected the source of Wylan’s distress might not be him so much as that maniac at home.

“If you need help,” he said, his voice soft, “you can come to us. Inej has contacts in Social Services. If you don’t need that, we’re still all good company, we can make anyone feel welcome. Come sit with us at lunch. You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to. But you don’t have to be alone all the time, okay?”

Wylan’s mouth trembled. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He didn’t say a word.

Jesper hadn’t been entirely truthful when he said his crush on Wylan was over. The sight of him made his heart pound. He wanted to kiss that mouth. He wanted to brush away those tears and hold him until his shaking stopped. But Wylan had made it clear he didn’t want that from him, and so Jesper just sat with him until ten more minutes passed.

Finally, he sighed and stood. “Well, I guess my friend isn’t coming.” Which hurt even more than Wylan’s silence. “Think about what I said.”

He walked to the band room doors.

“W-Wait.”

He turned.

Wylan had that panicked expression on his face again, and for a moment he just looked at Jesper without saying anything. Then he lowered his gaze and stared at his hands. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jesper gave him a gentle smile. “Whenever you need something, you can come to me, all right?”

“Jesper, I…”

“Yes?”

The younger boy drew in a sharp breath, then shook his head and covered his face. “It’s too much,” he whispered. “I think I’m broken.”

Alarmed, Jesper crossed the room and crouched in front of him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry. I… I… I want to be alone now.”

Jesper reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I promise you’re not _broken._ You seem like a really great guy. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

A weak nod was his only response, and he finally rose and walked to the doors. His heart twisted when he realized that behind him, Wylan had started crying.


	10. Small Steps

Wylan managed to make it home without seeing anyone. In the safety of his room, he sobbed into his pillow and cursed himself for being a bigger idiot than even his father thought.

Jesper had been right there, wondering—hoping?—Wylan was the one he was supposed to meet. And Wylan lied.

He could still feel Jesper’s hand on his shoulder, so gentle and strong. His voice was just as sexy as “Texting Buddy” claimed, deep and low and beautiful. Together with his obvious concern— _you can come to us_ —it made Wylan melt inside.

And he let all that promised love and comfort walk out the door because he was scared and stupid and broken. No wonder he disappointed his father so much.

Finally, he stopped crying and checked his phone. He wouldn’t blame Jesper if he never texted him again, but there was a single message waiting.

_So… I guess you were just kidding? :(_

Tears blurred his vision, but he took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I meant it, but I got too scared to meet you.”

_Scared?_

_It’s fine if you need space, but…_

_You’re scared of me? :(_

The question, so close to what Jesper asked him in the band room, made him ache for a hug again. Whether in person or through texts, he kept giving the wrong impression. He wasn’t scared of Jesper. He wanted Jesper to hold him. He wanted to be with him so badly he felt like he might break into pieces.

_You want to try a more public place next time?_

_We can meet at lunch. :(_

_What are you afraid I’ll do…?_

He took a deep breath. “It’s not like I think you’ll kill me or something. It’s not a physical fear.” His physical thoughts of Jesper were much different and getting stronger all the time. “It’s emotional.”

_You’re afraid I’ll break your heart?_

“Sort of.”

_Why? :(_

“You sure you want to hear this?”

_Yes._

“I told you how my brain tells me compliments are actually insults, remember? It’s like that. I start thinking all sorts of things. Crazy, irrational things, but they get to me. I started thinking you’d laugh and say it was all a joke, or that one day you’d suddenly tell me you never had feelings for me at all. Or even crazier things, like I’d talk to the wrong person or that I misunderstood the whole situation.” He took another breath to steady himself and finished the message in a rush. “It even affects me here. There are times when I want to stop talking because I’m convinced you’ll make fun of me and ask if I really believed you, or just get tired of me and stop responding.”

For a long time there was no response, and he forced himself not to panic. Jesper had to read the message and then think of a reply. It might take a while. It wasn’t that his weird anxiety scared him off. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

_I really like you. :(_

_Don’t be scared. :(_

Wylan breathed again. “I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to believe you. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

_Don’t apologize. Take all the time you need._

_Did that happen to you before? What you described?_

“Yes. First grade. I was the shy kid in the corner with no friends. One day, a couple of my classmates said they wanted to play with me at recess. I was so happy. But when we got outside and I went to play with them, they just laughed at me and called me names and asked why I thought they’d spend time with a loser like me.” He could still hear the taunts, although after a while, everything had blended into his father’s voice in his memory.

_That’s terrible! :( I’m sorry._

“No one wants to be my friend. I’m not the kind of guy people want around.”

But was that entirely true anymore, or had he just build up his defenses so much, he couldn’t lower them long enough to tell? When he passed Kaz and Jesper’s friends in the hallways, they waved to him, even Matthias.

_I do._

_I know it’s hard for you to trust people, but not everyone’s like that._

“I’m trying.”

_You know, I didn’t always fit in._

_I used to live far away, on a farm._

_When my dad and I moved here, it was total culture shock._

_I know it’s not the same thing, but I just wanted you to know I’ve felt out of place before, too._

_So we can take it slow. I don’t mind._

“Thanks.” Wylan hesitated. It still felt like a lie, talking like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to reveal his identity. But if he couldn’t tell the whole truth, he could at least get a partial truth out there. “I saw Jesper Fahey enter the band room. That’s you, isn’t it?”

_Wait, you were spying??_

“I’m sorry.”

_It’s okay._

_And you’re right._

_Nameless Texting Buddy now has a name._

_Uh_

_So_

_Since you recognized me, do we know each other?_

He swallowed. “We’ve had classes together.”

_Hmm…_

_So which cutie pie is Cutie Pie…?_

His cheeks burned. “Will you be sad if we meet and I’m not as cute as you think?”

_You are._

“What if I’m not?”

_Not possible._

“How do you know?”

_Your messages._

_Your personality._

_The things you say._

_You’re cute._

_So you’re cute no matter what you look like. ;)_

Wylan listened to those messages a few times and then scratched his head. “Are you saying cuteness is a state of mind?”

_YES!_

He laughed, but he felt a little better. “You’re such a dork sometimes.”

_But loveable? ;)_

“Yes, a very loveable dork.”

_So_

_Speaking of cuteness_

_and seeing each other_

_uh_

_You’ve seen me now._

_You’ve seen my beauty. ;)_

_Well?_

Wylan rolled his eyes, but the disjointed messages made him realize something. He’d assumed only he had these insecurities, that Jesper was so self-assured as to not worry what his anonymous friend thought. But maybe he worried too, if not to the same extreme.

He thought about Jesper’s smile that first day in class, and the way he pressed alongside him at the study session. How close to the truth could he go?

_Cutie Pie? :(_

_Never mind._

_You, uh, don’t have to answer._

He threw caution to the wind. “Actually, I’ve found you attractive for a long time and even pictured you as you, so it’s a huge weight off my shoulders that now I can think about you being sexy without feeling guilty.”

_Really??_

_YES!_

_Come on, Cutie Pie, Sexy Jesper is waiting with your hug. ;)_

“Someday. Please… please don’t give up on me.”

_Never. <3_

Wylan took a deep breath. He wanted to tell Jesper who he was. Even the texting conversation was a start. It let him open up to someone. He could make it. It would just take small steps.

#

“Hey Kaz.” Jesper sat down at lunch that day determined to do something right. He’d waited until lunch because he didn’t want people to overhear. “I need to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Could a person with a lot of influence send someone away to an institution, even if they didn’t belong there?”

Kaz’s eyebrows lifted and he folded his arms. “Depends. Who do you want sent away, and to where?”

“No, no!” Jesper shook his head. “I don’t want to send anyone away, I want to _stop_ someone from being sent away.”

“Explain.”

“You know that guy I’ve been texting? Well…” He briefly explained what Cutie Pie’s father threatened to do and hoped Kaz would say it was impossible.

Kaz nodded slowly. “He’d need falsified records, maybe some bribery. He couldn’t do it legitimately, but with the right connections, it’s doable.”

“No!” Jesper jumped to his feet.

“Sit down.”

“But—”

“You don’t even know who your friend is.” Scorn filled Kaz’s voice. “What are you going to do, research every student in school? Sit _down._ ”

He slowly sat. His shoulders slumped. Kaz was right. Without knowing the guy’s identity, there was nothing any of them could do. It was so unfair, though. He could only pray that if Cutie Pie’s father really did go that far, he’d share enough information to let Jesper help.

On the other hand, Kaz had on his scheming face, so maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

Jesper wanted to check his phone, but there was no point. Cutie Pie had talked to him a lot that morning before school, but then said he didn’t want to text at lunch anymore, due to vague worries he didn’t go into.

He’d give him all the time and space he needed, but losing one of their major conversation times disappointed him and made him worried it might be the start of a wider gap between them.

He _said_ he liked knowing it was Jesper, but he might have said that to be polite. Maybe Jesper wasn’t his type at all, and he planned to gradually back off.

It had also followed their first genuine argument. He’d again tried to talk Cutie Pie into getting help, and Cutie Pie insisted it wouldn’t do any good and would just make things worse. Jesper was increasingly worried about what might happen if he stayed in that situation—if nothing else, Cutie Pie’s father was at least doing severe psychological harm to him—but without knowing his actual identity, Jesper was powerless to do anything except give advice.

He rubbed his face. Cutie Pie deserved so much better. Jesper wanted to find his house, march inside, and take him away.

“C-Can I sit here?”

The terrified voice made Jesper’s head snap up. Wylan stood by their table, his knuckles white from how tightly he clutched his lunch, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe he asked. He looked like any sudden movement might make him flee to his usual lonely spot.

Nina smiled up at him. “Of course!”

In their current seating arrangement, Kaz sat at the end next to Inej and across from Jesper, who sat beside Nina and Matthias. That left an empty seat in their block on the other side of Inej.

Wylan set down his stuff and all but collapsed into the chair, although he gave Inej a wary look as if concerned she might attack him. She smiled, and he edged a little closer.

Jesper met Wylan’s gaze with a smile and put up a mental filter to make sure all the innuendos and suggestive comments that normally came from his mouth would stay in his head where they couldn’t send the younger boy running.

“I’m happy you decided to sit with us,” Nina said. “It was fun hanging out with you the other day.”

Wylan nodded. He hands visibly shook as he tried to eat his food.

“Couldn’t stay away, huh?” Jesper asked with a wink.

The other boy turned red.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have winked. But really, if that was too much, Jesper was going to have to keep his mouth shut entirely. Everything he could think of to make someone relax might have the opposite effect.

“Thank you for letting me sit here,” Wylan said in a whisper.

“Sit with us any time you want,” Inej said. “We’re not as scary as people think. Well, except Kaz.”

Wylan shook his head. “He’s not that bad.”

Kaz glanced toward him and raised one eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Ignore him,” Nina said. “We really are happy to have you here.”

The boy managed a tremulous smile, but his hands shook worse than before.

Inej cleared her throat. Before Wylan approached, she’d been discussing a TV show with Nina, and she steered the conversation back toward that topic. Jesper frowned, but as time passed, Wylan slowly stopped shaking. He didn’t join in, but he looked at them as they spoke and smiled when someone said something funny.

Then Jesper understood. Wylan didn’t want to be a spectacle. That was why she did it. Continuing their previous conversation wasn’t meant to exclude him, but to act like him sitting with them was a natural thing and give him time to adjust.

Wylan looked almost calm, until a student from one of the other tables walked up to them and stopped by his seat.

“What are you doing, Wylan?” The mockery in his tone was evident. “Trying to hang out with the cool kids? You think that will make you any less of a loser?”

Jesper jumped to his feet, because Wylan’s composure was already evaporating into panic and embarrassment.

The bully reached toward Wylan to shove him—

—and pulled back with a cry of pain as Inej moved faster than Jesper could see, grabbed the student’s hand, and twisted it.

“Wylan is with us,” she said, her voice cold. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Nina and Matthias also stood up. Kaz didn’t, but he didn’t have to. He was Kaz. He could be asleep and still seem like a threat.

The bully shook his head. “Okay, okay, I’m going! Let go!”

Inej released him, but didn’t stop glaring until he was far from their table. They all sat back down.

Wylan stared down at his tray. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes we did,” Matthias said. He seemed puzzled by Wylan’s reaction. “He was bothering you. We couldn’t let him continue.”

Wylan looked up at him with wide eyes. Then he looked at each one of them in turn. Whatever he saw must have reassured him, because he blushed and mumbled a thank-you under his breath before returning to his meal.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” Jesper said.

The younger boy met his gaze and smiled. It took Jesper’s breath away. Whether it was their conversation in the band room or something else, things had changed between them.

He couldn’t resist. He winked again. Wylan’s face turned scarlet, but for once he didn’t seem entirely displeased. Yes, things had _definitely_ changed between them. It sent a thrill through Jesper—but also a twinge of guilt. What would Cutie Pie think if he caught Jesper flirting with Wylan? He might take it as a betrayal.

And if he felt betrayed, Jesper had a horrible feeling he could lose his trust forever.


	11. Precipice

Wylan took a deep breath. Today was the day. He’d spent the past week sitting with the group at lunch. Despite their frightening reputation, they welcomed him and treated him with respect. They acted like he was one of them.

It didn’t make sense. He was Wylan Van Eck, the kid who couldn’t read. He was the sort of person to be shunted off to the side and ignored. That was what his father said, and how things worked before. But Jesper, Kaz, Inej, Nina, and Matthias all accepted him—and Jesper, quite possibly the most gorgeous person in the entire world, found him attractive.

Whenever Wylan got a flirting text message from him, excitement thrilled through him. He wanted Jesper to say those things in person. He wanted Jesper to touch him. He wanted Jesper to give him his hug, and maybe a kiss.

But none of that would ever happen if he didn’t tell Jesper who he was.

All day long, he’d tried to work up the courage, but the hours slipped past until he found himself nervously looking for Jesper’s locker after asking Nina where it was. She winked when she told him, too. Was he that obvious? All the more reason to get it over with, then.

Wylan tried to calm down. It shouldn’t be hard. All he had to do was approach Jesper—whose smile made it so difficult to think—and say, “I’m sorry I lied. I’m ‘Cutie Pie.’” Alternately, if he got too nervous to speak, he could just show Jesper their latest conversation on his phone.

He managed to quiet the tornado of insane worries in his mind that swore it was all a strange coincidence and Texting Buddy was only pretending to be Jesper. He was going to do this, and his stupid anxiety wouldn’t stand in his way.

Wylan almost reached his destination when he heard his name. He ducked into the corner by the nearest lockers.

Two girls from his class walked down the hall up ahead. They’d never gotten along with him, and one of the best parts about taking classes with another grade was avoiding them.

“You didn’t see the way he was staring at Jesper?” asked the girl who said his name.

“No way.” Her friend laughed. “ _Wylan_ likes Jesper?”

“He spent today following him around like a lost puppy.”

Wylan’s cheeks burned. It wasn’t that bad.

“I wonder what Jesper will do when he finds out.”

“Well, you know what everyone says about Jesper.”

He did not in fact know what “everyone” said about Jesper, so he strained to hear more.

“That he’ll screw anything that moves? Even someone like Wylan?”

“I heard he’s slept with half the school. You don’t get that many conquests by being picky.”

They continued on out of earshot, but Wylan didn’t follow. He didn’t want to hear any more.

He leaned his head back against the wall. Those girls hated him and considered him a loser. They always had. And he knew firsthand how cruel gossip could be. Whatever they said about Jesper didn’t matter. They were probably jealous because Jesper was ten times a better person than they’d ever be.

And yet…

Jesper thought Wylan and “Cutie Pie” were two separate people, but he’d flirted with both of them at the same time. He referred to Wylan as his crush, but he also asked a random texting stranger if he was cute within minutes of meeting.

Wylan gripped his head. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t be jealous of _himself._

But they’d awoken a new worry. What if wanting a relationship meant something different to Jesper than it did to him? Wylan enjoyed Jesper’s teasing and insinuations, but he didn’t want to be a “conquest.”  He wanted something lasting. He wanted Jesper to be the shelter that would protect him in a storm, the lifeline he could hold onto when everything else fell away.

At the end of the hall, Jesper appeared at his locker, talking to someone as he put his stuff away. Wylan looked at him, but he couldn’t breathe. The conversation he wanted to have felt stupid and silly.

Forget being rejected. Being used and discarded would hurt worse than any rejection in the world. Through their texts, Jesper claimed to love him, but anyone could say that.

Wylan’s father once claimed to love him, too.

From the few times he dared to speak his thoughts before he learned better, Wylan knew many of his classmates considered his views on relationships to be outdated and somewhat odd. Jesper probably never dreamed he wanted commitment.

And… that explained it. He kept trying to figure out why Jesper would want someone like _him_ , but it finally made a depressing sort of sense. Jesper considered him cute, good enough for a temporary dalliance. Nothing more.

Wylan wrapped his arms around himself. He felt like his heart was splitting in two. But he couldn’t tell Jesper the truth.

#

_You okay?_

_Cutie Pie?_

_Everything okay?_

_I miss you. :(_

#

“You’ll like it there, Wylan.” If not for the cold way his eyes glittered, Wylan might have thought his father believed what he was saying. “It’s called the Supportive Steps Institute. Isn’t that touching? They give people like you the support you need to survive in this cruel world.”

Wylan hated that phrase, _people like you_ , but part of him believed it. People like him needed special help, not like normal people. Normal people could make friends without going through such a nightmare. Normal people wouldn’t have ended up in such a mess. Normal people could find love.

“I’ve already contacted them,” his father said. “I think this is the best decision for all of us.”

Because Alys was pregnant. She’d announced the news to Wylan with a smile, oblivious to what it might mean, and at first he felt the same way. For a short period of time, he’d imagined a future where he lived alongside Alys and his new half-sibling, before he realized his father had been waiting for a chance to replace his defective child with a better one.

“It won’t work,” Wylan said, although he felt dazed, like the world was blurring out of control around him. “They’ll need to make sure I belong.”

But his father just smiled, and Wylan didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

#

_Did I do something?_

#

Wylan reluctantly walked to the group’s lunch table. He had to. If he stopped at the same time “Cutie Pie” went silent, Jesper would realize who he was. Besides, he liked them. They accepted him, and he wasn’t ready to give it all up until he had to. At least Jesper wasn’t in the cafeteria yet.

“Hi Wylan,” Nina said when he sat down. “How are you today?”

As a child, he’d learned to pretend everything was fine. No matter how badly the lessons with his tutors went, he put on a bright smile and told his father he made progress. It went easier on him that way. Together with his memorization trick, he avoided a lot of pain before he couldn’t fake it any longer.

He returned to that. He turned on a happy persona that didn’t match what he felt and smiled. “Good!”

Kaz gave him a sharp look.

Wylan swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. Apparently he couldn’t fool everyone.

“Don’t scare him,” Nina said with a frown for Kaz.

How the other boy intended to respond, he never found out, because then Jesper walked into the cafeteria and joined them.

“Are you all right?” Inej asked him. “You’ve been out of it all day.”

“I’m fine.” Jesper checked his phone and then put it away with a sigh. “Just… waiting to hear from someone, that’s all.”

“Your texting friend?”

Wylan became very interested in his food. He could feel Kaz glaring at him, but he didn’t look up. He ate lunch in silence as Jesper lamented about not hearing from his friend, and he pretended it didn’t rip his heart to pieces.

#

_It’s been days now. Where are you?_

_Okay, I’m getting worried._

_Hello?_

#

“I don’t know what you think you’ll miss.”

Wylan sat on his bed with his knees hugged against his chest. Normally his father was content to summon him. It was rare for him to invade his room.

“It’s not like you have any friends you’ll be leaving.”

“Yes I do.”

“I doubt very much that they’re actually your friends.” His father shrugged. “They’ll wonder what happened to you for a day or two, and then they’ll get on with their lives. You’re probably more an annoyance to them than anything.”

Wylan flinched, because the same thing had occurred to him.

“And I know you want to leave this house. Isn’t this your big opportunity?”

“Not like this,” he whispered. “I don’t need special help.”

“Of course you do. You said so yourself.” His father prowled around the room as if wondering what he could sell once he got rid of Wylan. His fingers brushed the flute case. “I suppose they’ll let you keep this.”

Let him keep it? Was he being send to a school or a prison?

Jan Van Eck’s tour of the room continued. As if determined to erase any illusions that it was a safe place, he picked up almost everything, even to just put it down a second later.

“What are you doing?” Wylan asked, when he opened the dresser drawer.

“Seeing how many suitcases you’ll need.”

God, he wasn’t joking about this. Wylan closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Jesper said he couldn’t be sent away without tests. Maybe this was a trick to see how far he could be pushed before he broke.

His father made a quiet sound of disgust as he found the spaceship-covered pajamas. “And you claim you don’t have the mental capacity of a child?”

Wylan bit his lip and tried not to react. The pajamas were fine. _He_ was fine.

“What on Earth are these?” His father had found the collection of gifts, the handkerchief and the little bear and the wilted remains of the rose.

Wylan scrambled to his feet and reached out. “They’re mine.” Jesper’s gifts in his father’s hands felt _wrong_ , the overlap of two worlds that should have remained separate.

For a moment, his father looked bewildered, but then he started to laugh. “Who gave these to you? Is that the person you don’t want to leave?”

He tried to grab them back, but his father held them out of his reach.

“Poor Wylan,” he said, his voice filled with false sympathy. “It’s a good thing I’m sending you away before you get your heart broken.”

His eyes filled with tears. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I can guess.” His father’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Someone turned on a bit of charm for you, and innocent soul that you are, you fell for it.”

Wylan flushed. “He cares—”

“Cares about you? _You?_ Don’t delude yourself. He probably cares about having a bit of fun with you. Wait—” His eyes gleamed. “Did you tell him the truth? That’s it, isn’t it? You told him you couldn’t read, and he assured you that didn’t bother him.”

Wylan put his hands over his ears, but it wasn’t enough to block out his father’s voice.

“Of course he did. What better treasure to fall into his lap than an idiot too stupid to realize he was being taken advantage of?”

“Stop it,” Wylan whispered. “Please, stop it.”

His father shook his head. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for you.” He looked at the gifts one more time, then casually tossed them into the trash.

#

_If you don’t want to talk, I’ll never bother you again, I promise!_

_Just please let me know you’re okay…_

#

Wylan sat at his desk and looked at his phone. He’d ignored the messages for days, but he couldn’t let it end like this. He felt like he was on a precipice, about to topple into a dark abyss. Scary people had been at the house, strangers whose evil eyes made Wylan realize that if his father couldn’t send him away legally, he’d do so illegally.

Soon Wylan would disappear… and he’d never see Jesper again.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Telling the truth would hurt too much. And he planned to cut all ties as “Cutie Pie.”

But Jesper deserved to know why.

Wylan played the messages he’d ignored. The last one, a plaintive plea for his safety, made his chest constrict and his breath catch. He wanted to abandon his plan and go back to the way things used to be. If he was allowed to keep his cell phone at the institute, he’d at least be able to cling to one friendship.

No.

It was ridiculous, just like those girls and his father thought. Someone like Jesper wouldn’t be interested in him for anything long-term, and he was a fool to believe otherwise.

Especially if he was sent away. Jesper would never want him then. He’d want someone with him, not on the other side of the country. Not someone sent away to a special place because he was too stupid to read.

“Hey.” Wylan’s mouth was dry, and he swallowed several times before he was able to continue his message. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply for so long. I thought I never would, but you at least deserve to know why. I really loved our conversations… I loved them too much.” He blinked away tears and cleared his throat. “They made me believe we had something special.”

And he still wanted to believe it. He stood on a second precipice, one where if he let go, he’d fall so deeply in love with Jesper Fahey he’d never be able to protect his heart.

“I know you flirt with a lot of people. I don’t. You’re the first person I’ve ever done this with. So when you say you love me or show me a heart or call me cute, it means a lot to me. Probably a lot more than it means to you. But I can’t keep doing it. I don’t know what you wanted this to turn into, but for me it would have to be permanent. It would have to be me and you, together. And even if you tell me that’s what you want, I don’t think I can believe you.”

If anyone ever did want to belong to him exclusively and completely, it wouldn’t be someone as beautiful and charming as Jesper.

“You could have anyone,” he whispered. “You’d never settle for someone like me. I wish it was different. I want you to know that while it lasted, I really liked this.”

And even if Jesper did settle for him, it wouldn’t end well. Jesper was bright and happy. He needed someone who could keep up with him, someone who didn’t suspect the worst and lie to him out of shame.

“I think I love you,” he said, “but you deserve better.”

It was a long, painful message, and it felt irrevocable.

Wylan sent it.


	12. Schemes

When Jesper’s phone buzzed with a new message in the middle of dinner, he dropped his silverware and jumped up from the table to where he’d left his phone on the couch.

“Jesper,” his dad said, “can’t it wait?”

“Not if it’s—” He shook his head. He hadn’t fully explained the situation to his dad, just that an important friend had stopped talking to him, but it must have been obvious that he was moping. Not only did he miss Cutie Pie’s conversations, but he was scared that something had happened to him.

The sight of a text from him made Jesper breathe easier. Then he noticed how long it was, and his stomach clenched.

Before he read the full thing, his gaze went to the last line.

_I think I love you, but you deserve better._

Oh no.

“Are you all right?” his dad asked.

Unable to speak, he shook his head. He read the entire long message, and his heart broke. He re-read it again, in case he misunderstood, but it hadn’t changed. Cutie Pie thought he only wanted something temporary from their relationship, and so he was cutting things off entirely.

Jesper sent a reply as fast as he could. _It’s not like that!_

_I really do care!_

Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much. He knew the other boy had found a warm place in his life, but the sudden hollowness where he used to be showed Jesper how much of his heart he’d given away.

_Deserve better? I don’t want someone else!_

_I want to be with you._

_I’m not joking!_

His heart hammered, and he swayed. This couldn’t be happening, not like this.

“Jesper?” His dad was on his feet and by his side in an instant. He put one hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Jesper let him guide him back to the table. He sat down and told him the whole story, how he’d fallen in love with a student at school whose name he didn’t know, and how he might have lost him forever. All the while, he held his phone and waited for a reply.

It never came.

#

“Kaz, you’ve got to help me.”

The other boy didn’t slow down, and he could move surprisingly fast despite his limp. “I am beginning to wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that to me.”

Jesper ran to catch up with him. All throughout the school day, he’d hoped for a response to his messages. He’d even taken another rose to the band room cubby hole, just in case Cutie Pie continued to check. At lunch, he’d waited patiently for a reply. Nothing.

He asked Inej for help, but she told him to give his friend time to calm down. It was similar to the advice his dad gave after he heard the whole story, that something had obviously upset Cutie Pie and he’d come around eventually. But Jesper wasn’t sure he _would_ calm down—and the threat from Cutie Pie’s father still loomed over them.

Nina and Matthias both thought he should do something romantic, which didn’t help much when the text messages were their only point of communication. She eventually suggested taking over the intercom system, much to Matthias’s horror, and publicly announcing his feelings. It had potential, but it would probably embarrass Cutie Pie to death.

And Wylan had looked awful all day, eventually saying he didn’t feel well and skipping the cafeteria, so Jesper never got to ask him for advice. That just left Kaz.

Who, despite being told the direness of the situation, refused to help.

“Come on,” Jesper said. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Your locker is at the other end of the hall,” Kaz said. “Quit following me.”

Jesper ignored the amused glances from other students in the hallway and kept pace with his friend. “Do I need to explain it again? The love of my life is not speaking to me.”

“If I had a dollar for every love of your life, I’d be a rich man.”

“I’m serious this time. He’s special!”

“Pity he doesn’t know that.”

He scowled. “You’re not saying this is my fault, are you? Sure, I’ve been on my share of dates, but my reputation is way overblown.”

“I seem to recall a certain person doing whatever he could to encourage that reputation.”

“Come on. Whatever I did before, it doesn’t mean I can’t settle down.”

“Perfect,” Kaz said. “Then be angry with this friend of yours for jumping to conclusions and not trusting you, and get over him.”

“I _can’t._ ” Jesper hadn’t known it was possible for his heart to hurt this much, especially over someone he didn’t know who was. “I want him back. I _need_ him back. This is just a misunderstanding.”

“Then fix it.”

“How?” He threw his hands in the air. “He won’t answer my messages. He’s probably not even checking them. And if he does check, he’ll think I’m lying.”

While not directly stated in the message, it was clear that Cutie Pie thought Jesper only claimed to love him because he wanted to have sex with him. That hurt. Not that he’d ever object to Cutie Pie winding up in his bed, but he’d never deceive him to make it happen—and he wanted a whole lot more than just that.

But he couldn’t stay angry. Whenever he started to get annoyed, he remembered those heartbreaking messages after they were supposed to meet in the band room and the anguish throughout Cutie Pie’s final goodbye. Betrayal and rejection had left Cutie Pie a wreck, unable to truly trust anyone.

If Jesper could just find him, he’d stare into his eyes and repeat his feelings until he believed him.

Lost in thought, he made it several feet down the hall before he realized Kaz was no longer walking with him. He turned around and rejoined him.

Kaz looked distinctly unimpressed. “Text messaging. That’s all you’ve got? He’s the ‘love of your life,’ but sending messages is the only option?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“Great, thanks. You’re a ton of help, Kaz. If you had any idea what this feels like, you wouldn’t—”

Jesper barely had a moment to realize something was wrong before Kaz rounded on him and lunged forward. His cane came up to pin him against the wall by his throat.

Someone screamed. All around, the other students scattered and fled the hallway, either to get help or because they didn’t want to be witnesses to a murder.

“Uh, Kaz? Buddy? We’re friends, right?”

He’d never seen Kaz so angry before. His dark eyes blazed. “You could fight to keep him. Not everyone has that luxury. Sometimes the people we love are ripped away from us by powers beyond our control, and there’s nothing we can do to get them back, no matter how hard we try. So forgive me if I’m not sympathetic to you letting someone you love walk out of your life!”

Kaz released him, and Jesper stared at him in shock. He had so many questions, but all he could think to say was, “If his father sends him away, he _will_ be ripped from me.”

“I did my part. The rest is up to you.”

“What? What did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Wait… you know, don’t you? You know who he is!”

“And it’s hardly my place to tell you,” Kaz said. “Your communication issues are something the two of you need to work out yourselves. Now, I should get out of here, before someone has me arrested.”

A few students peeked nervously into the hallway, and a teacher hurried to see what the problem was.

Jesper laughed. “Uh, sorry, just messing around…”

“If you want him,” Kaz said as he walked away, “fight for him.”

Once Jesper managed to assure the concerned teachers everything was under control, he walked to his locker and considered the strange conversation. Fight to keep Cutie Pie… Find a way to fix things… Was Kaz right? Was there a way to do it?

The phone conversation wasn’t their _only_ point of contact. They went to school together. They had the cubby as an exchange point. They also had the same lunch period.

He could try Nina’s idea—barge into the office in the morning, take control of the loudspeaker, and shout his love for Cutie Pie for the entire school to hear, but it seemed a bit drastic.

There had to be a better way for him to show his feelings.

He didn’t know what had gotten into Kaz, or what he meant when he said he did his part, but he had a point. Jesper was a fighter. He wouldn’t let it end like this. He wouldn’t give up until he had one more chance to tell Cutie Pie how he felt.

But how? What did people use to show affection? Music, poetry, art? He had no musical talent… poetry was out unless Cutie Pie was willing to check his messages or answer the phone,… but art, on the other hand… If he could use art to show his true feelings and put it on display in a place where Cutie Pie would see it…

He sighed. No matter how much love went into it, stick figures were unlikely to convey his feelings properly. If he wanted Cutie Pie to believe him, his drawings wouldn’t cut it.

Then he caught his breath. An image flashed through his mind—a notebook page covered in beautiful, eccentric, science artwork. Jesper couldn’t draw, but he knew someone who could. As soon as possible, he’d ask Wylan if he took commissions and request artwork that would show how he truly felt.

#

“WYLAN!”

Wylan cringed at the shout. He felt bad enough already—he wasn’t doing anything except lying on his bed feeling miserable—and from the tone of his father’s voice, things were about to get worse.

He slowly got out of bed and left his room. Each step hurt. _Everything_ hurt. Whenever he thought about how he’d cut himself off from Jesper and what his future held, he wanted to cry himself to sleep and ignore the world. He felt numb as he walked downstairs.

He didn’t know what he was in trouble for this time. It didn’t matter much. Nothing did. He’d given up on Jesper. He’d accepted himself as unlovable. He’d realized he could never stop his father.

There was no point in fighting if he could never win.

“WYLAN!”

He trudged to his father’s office and walked inside. He wondered if his father had noticed the light fade from his eyes, and if that made him happy.

Jan Van Eck looked anything but happy today. His face was red with anger and his eyes bulged. “How did you do it?”

Wylan blinked at him in confusion.

“Don’t give me that look! Tell me how you did it. _Now._ ”

“I…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what you mean. Did what? I didn’t do anything!”

His father stepped around from behind his desk and grabbed Wylan by the front of his shirt. “I’ve had enough of your pathetic whining!” He slammed him backward, and the back of Wylan’s head struck the wall. “I don’t know how you did it, but don’t think for a minute this was my only plan. You’ll never deserve to be my son.”

Wylan stared at him with wide eyes and tried to look as nonthreatening as possible. He didn’t know what had put his father in such a state, but he seemed murderous.

His father let go and twisted the computer monitor around to face him. He indicated the screen. “I’m talking about this.”

An email was displayed on the screen. It had a fancy header and a logo in the corner with clasped hands, but Wylan had never seen it before.

“Read it.”

“I… can’t…”

“Oh, excuse me,” his father said. “I forgot even this is too much for your little brain.”

Wylan clenched his hands into fists. He’d surrendered everything, and all he got in return for it was more mockery. He couldn’t take it anymore. “You did not _forget_! You just want to hurt me. So fine, have it your way! I’m so stupid I can’t read the stupid email. Tell me what it says, then, since you obviously want me to know!”

The door opened, and Alys walked inside. “Is everything all right? I heard shouting.”

“It’s nothing,” his father said through gritted teeth. “Go… do something.”

Wylan turned and looked her in the eyes. “Father wants me to read this email, but I can’t.”

“I’ll read it!” She stepped beneath them and leaned toward the computer. “‘Dear Mr. Jan Van Eck’—that’s you, Jan—”

“Yes, I’m aware of my own name.”

“‘We at the Supportive Steps Institute were happy to receive your letter expressing your interest in our services for your son, Wylan Van Eck. We were also happy to receive the transcript of your son’s current records from Ketterdam High School. However, after reviewing them, we think you have misunderstood the nature of our program.’”

Wylan’s chest constricted when she named the institute, but he began to breathe again as she continued.

“‘Your son’s grades show exemplary performance in many of his classes, especially math and science.’”

A quick glance at his father’s face together with his earlier accusations told Wylan everything he needed to know. His father hadn’t intended for the institute to receive a record of his actual grades, but somehow they had.

How? Who could have sent them his transcript? Wylan had told Jesper about the situation, but Jesper didn’t know who he was.

“‘Additionally, while testing would be required for a proper diagnosis, a quick look at his performance in other classes suggests he has no difficulty with analysis or comprehension. We believe he has a learning disorder that inhibits his ability to read. While the Supportive Steps Institute is not designed with such students in mind, we appreciate you reaching out to us for help. We have attached a list of learning aids that might help your son in his classes.’”

“You can stop reading,” his father said through gritted teeth.

Alys stopped, but blinked at them both in confusion. “What does this mean?”

“It means,” Wylan said with a triumphant smile, “that I don’t need to leave home.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I’m so happy! I would have missed you if you left. Jan, isn’t it wonderful, Wylan doesn’t need to leave home!”

“Fantastic,” he said, in a pained tone as if it killed him to say the word.

Alys put one arm around each of their waists and attempted to pull them together into a group hug. It failed, but she didn’t seem to notice. “And Wylan, from those things they said in that email, it sounds like you could be a scientist! When I was in school, we used to watch reruns of an old TV show about a scientist. His name was Bill Nye. Is that what you’ll be like when you grow up?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead to decide what he wanted to do with his future, particularly since he spent most of his life thinking he wasn’t smart enough to be successful, but she looked so happy and his father so _un_ happy that Wylan couldn’t hold back a grin. “Yeah, something like that.”

She nudged her husband. “Jan, did you hear? Wylan’s going to be a scientist like Bill Nye!”

Maybe Alys thought red-faced-and-eyes-bulging was the way his father showed happiness.

“We should celebrate,” she said. “Do you think I should sing?”

“No—”

Wylan nodded solemnly. “I think you _definitely_ should sing.”

Alys let out a squeal of delight and attempted another futile group hug. Then she began singing. Since it was apparently her best standard for what being a scientist meant, she took the theme from _Bill Nye the Science Guy_ and sang it with Wylan’s name in it instead.

Wylan smiled. “Thank you for calling me down to hear the email, Father.” While it felt good to yell, it was actually much more fun to play along and pretend he didn’t realize his father wasn’t happy for him. “I think I’ll go upstairs and plan out my science career.”

He slipped out of the office. He felt better than he had since he heard those girls talking in the hallway. Sure, he still didn’t have Jesper, and his father’s enraged expression when he left promised he’d get revenge, but as the repeated chorus of “Wy! Wy! Wy! Wylan the science guy!” rang throughout the mansion, Wylan couldn’t help but laugh.

It was probably temporary, and he didn’t know who made it possible, but for once in his life, he’d faced his father and _won._


	13. Sick

Wylan opened his eyes slowly and blinked at the clock beside his bed. It said 10:17 AM.

10:17?!

He sat up and immediately regretted it as his stomach clenched and his head throbbed. But he forced himself not to lie back down. Somehow he slept through his alarm and missed school. He was already over two hours late.

When he stood, his legs buckled. He eased back onto the bed and rubbed his head. He’d been a little queasy the night before, but nothing on this level. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this sick.

He wanted to crawl under the covers and go back to sleep, but first he needed to at least tell someone he was sick and missing school. After a few deep breaths, he stood again and managed to keep his balance. He stumbled to his bedroom door and opened it.

A servant was waiting in the hall right outside his room. She turned to face him when he stepped out. “Master Wylan, you need your rest!”

“I do?”

“You need to stay in bed until you recover.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and guided back into his room.

Wylan let himself be propelled toward the bed, relieved despite his confusion. “What about school?”

“Your father already informed the school that you weren’t feeling well and would have to take the day off.”

“Oh.” He nodded and got back into bed. When he was younger, his father objected strenuously to him missing school for any reason and often forced him to attend even when he had a fever, but when he reached high school, that stopped in favor of muttered remarks about how school wouldn’t help him anyway.

“Someone will bring a tray for you with breakfast soon.”

His stomach churned at the thought of food, but he managed a weak smile. He’d much rather sleep. The servant smiled in return and left the room. At least it was Friday, so he’d have the weekend to recover if necessary. Hopefully this was just a passing thing… Wylan closed his eyes.

A moment later, he sat straight up.

His father contacted the school? He already knew Wylan was sick? Wylan wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—the thought of his father creeping around his bedroom while he was asleep, or the possibility that he knew in advance.

The threat from the previous day suddenly felt ominous. _I don’t know how you did it, but don’t think for a minute this was my only plan._

A chill ran down Wylan’s spine. He’d eaten dinner after their confrontation, but he’d assumed his slight nausea afterwards was a coincidence. Could his father have had him poisoned? A poisoned son would cause more scandal and disgrace than Wylan’s dyslexia ever could, but if it looked like an illness…

He rubbed a hand across his forehead. For so long, he believed that if he was just good enough, his father would love him again. But he no longer believed that. Instead, he considered it a legitimate possibility that his father wanted him dead.

His phone sat on his desk. Maybe he could contact Jesper. One of his friends had to know how to detect poisoning and what to do about it.

But the desk was so far away… and he was so tired…

Wylan closed his eyes and drifted back into sleep.

#

Morning classes and lunch were lonely without Wylan, even though they rarely talked. Jesper sighed. On the day he planned to ask about art commissions, too. How could he have such bad luck?

Beyond that, he also couldn’t stop remembering how cold Jan Van Eck seemed toward his son. He didn’t like to think about Wylan being in that house with no one who loved him.

“I hope he’s all right,” Jesper said with a nod toward the empty seat.

“He wasn’t feeling well yesterday,” Inej said. “He’s probably sick.”

Jesper nodded. He needed to stop assuming the worst. Anyone could get sick. Normally, he’d never worry something was wrong from just a single absence. He was so wound up over the situation with Cutie Pie, everything had him on edge.

Kaz folded his arms. “Inej, why don’t you check on Wylan after school?”

If Jesper didn’t know better, he’d say Kaz looked concerned. “I doubt his father will let her in.”

“That why it should be Inej, not one of us.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ”

Inej looked puzzled. “Is there any reason to think Wylan _isn’t_ all right?”

“Certainly not,” Kaz said. “However, you’ve seen how he acts around us. It will help his peace of mind to know his friends care about him.”

That was true… and not the way Kaz Brekker thought about things. Jesper frowned. Either Kaz had been replaced by a clone, or something about Wylan’s absence disturbed him.

That was enough to make his own worries surge anew.

#

Wylan woke up in the afternoon to find a tray of cold breakfast waiting for him on the bedside table. He still felt sick, but better enough to feel silly over his earlier concerns. His father definitely had some plan to send him away, but he wouldn’t go as far as murder.

As he picked up the tray, he thought about what happened right before he fell asleep. Despite everything, his natural inclination had been to go to Jesper for help. In his heart, did he still trust him?

Those days when they texted back and forth were some of the happiest in recent memory. He’d felt loved. He’d felt safe.

With a sigh, Wylan settled down to eat his toast—and yelped in surprise when he realized someone was perched outside his window. Then he took a closer look and set the tray down so he could hurry to the window and push it open. “Inej?”

She smiled. “How do you feel?”

“Better now.” He couldn’t help but return her smile. There was a screen between them, so she couldn’t come inside, but this was the closest he ever came to hanging out with a friend at home. “How did you find me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You live in a mansion. It’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

He blushed. “Oh, right. But… why are you here?”

“Kaz wanted me to check up on you.”

“ _Kaz_ did?”

“He seemed unusually worried.”

Wylan laughed. “Don’t read too much into it. He just wanted to make sure his lab partner wasn’t dying.”

But he didn’t really believe that. He had growing suspicions about who derailed his father’s plan to send him away. As cold as Kaz seemed, he wasn’t nearly as uncaring as his reputation suggested.

“Was Jesper worried about me too?” he asked.

Amusement filled her voice. “We all missed you, but yes, he’ll be especially glad to know you’re okay.”

The knowing look in her eyes made him blush. “Would you tell—” But he stopped before he could finish the request. He couldn’t ask Inej to tell Jesper the truth about his identity. This was between the two of them, and he needed to work it out himself.

“Wylan?”

“Would you tell Kaz thank you?” he said instead.

“I will.”

“And thank you for coming by.”

“Anytime. See you at school on Monday?”

“I’ll be there.”

As Inej climbed back down the wall, Wylan’s heart sang. He had friends. Friends! His father could claim they’d forget about him if he disappeared, but it wasn’t true. They cared about him.

Jesper cared about him.

Wylan walked to his desk and grabbed his phone and earbuds. He took them back to his bed and listened to the replies he’d ignored since his farewell message. Part of him hoped Jesper rejected him, to justify his actions and remove the decision from his shoulders, while the rest of him prayed for anything else.

_It’s not like that!_

_I really do care!_

_Deserve better? I don’t want someone else!_

_I want to be with you._

_I’m not joking!_

Wylan put the phone on his bedside table and considered the situation as he nibbled on his toast. If he contacted Jesper again after his huge paragraph explaining why they had to part ways, he’d sound like an idiot. After what he did, he wouldn’t blame the other boy for changing his mind.

But he desperately wanted Jesper back.

Even as he tried to figure out a solution, his stomach heaved and he promptly vomited everything he’d eaten. No! Again? And he forgot to ask Inej about being poisoned…

Too dizzy and tired to think about it, much less try to text Jesper, Wylan mustered up the energy to call a servant for help with the mess and then went back to sleep.

#

When Jesper’s phone buzzed that evening, he grabbed it immediately. Inej had contacted them all earlier to say Wylan was fine, and while this could be one of his friends wanting to chat, it might be a reply from Cutie Pie at last.

It was.

His heart hammered and he held his breath as he checked the message.

_Don’t bother me ever again._

Jesper stared at the screen in shock. Even after what he said, Cutie Pie still hated him? He’d promised to leave the other boy alone if that was what he wanted, but like this? No reason except he apparently didn’t trust him?

He put his phone away and covered his face. If Cutie Pie wanted him gone that badly, he shouldn’t intrude.

Maybe it was a good thing Wylan hadn’t been at school. Maybe trying to win Cutie Pie back was the wrong decision after all.

#

The next time Wylan woke up, his father was in his room.

“How do you feel, Wylan?” His voice lacked any genuine concern.

“Okay.”

“I called the school this afternoon and got your assignments. You’ll be able to catch up and do your homework over the weekend. In the meantime, I want to help you.”

Wylan slowly sat up. There were three possibilities. First, he’d fallen into an alternate reality where his father loved him. Second, this was a fever dream. Or third, his father was playing mind games with him and was about to twist the knife.

He hoped it was option two, in which case he’d like his fever dream to morph into something more pleasant, like motorcycle rides with Jesper.

But his father remained, with an unpleasant smile on his face. Option three, then. He held out a notebook and a pencil. “I’m going to teach you to write.”

Oh God. Wylan considered pulling the blankets over his head, but his father would probably just drag him out. He took the offered materials with shaking hands. He couldn’t read or write on a good day, never mind at a time like this. Was this revenge?

“Write your name. Surely you can do that much.”

He wanted to cry, but he laboriously wrote his name.

“It looks like a child wrote that.” His father sneered at the large letters. “How do you expect to do anything in life if you can’t even sign your name like an adult?”

“I can sign my name.”

“You should know better than to lie to me.”

Wylan gritted his teeth. One of his tutors had worked with him patiently to teach him to write and sign his own name. She’d encouraged him to think of his signature like art, a representation of himself. He missed that tutor. She’d been sent away after a disagreement with his father about how his education should proceed.

He drew his signature on the paper below his name.

“You actually can do it,” his father said. “That’s better than I thought.”

Wylan felt a glimmer of pride, followed by a rush of self-loathing. Did he _still_ care about his father’s approval?

“Now surely you can spell your name for me.”

“What?”

“Spell it. Say each letter.” Scorn filled his father’s voice. “Any child can recognize letters. Are you saying you can’t?”

Wylan squeezed his eyes shut against tears. He wanted to be with Jesper. He wanted Jesper to hold him. He wanted to look into Jesper’s eyes and hear him say out loud that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t read.

His father let out an exaggerated sigh and took the notebook back. “I can see you’re far too distracted to concentrate.”

Relieved, Wylan sank back against his pillows.

“No doubt you wish you were free of me. Such ingratitude, after everything I’ve done for you. I’ve given you food and shelter when you’re nothing but a burden. It’s more than someone like you should expect.”

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the jabs.

“What would you do if you were free? Would you live a happy life alone? No, you’d go become a burden on someone else.”

Ignore him, he just had to ignore him until he went away.

“At least I’m your father. It would be far worse of you to show this sort of ingratitude toward someone you’ve lied to, someone you won’t even tell your name.”

Wylan jerked bolt upright and stared at his father with wide eyes. Then he looked at the bedside table. His cell phone was gone.

His father smiled. “Since you couldn’t be bothered to wake up when I arrived, I took the liberty of checking what you’ve been up to.” He shook his head slowly. “Poor Wylan.”

The thought of him reading through the conversations with Jesper made Wylan feel sick. “I want my phone back.”

“I hardly see what use you’d have for it now.” His father walked to the door, but as he left he added, “At least you finally told him you weren’t good enough for him. For once in your life, you did something smart.”

Once the door closed, Wylan shuddered and let the tears roll down his cheeks. Maybe his father was right and he didn’t deserve Jesper anymore, but this time, he wanted to ask.

He wanted to lay the whole truth in front of Jesper and let him pass judgment. But his father had his phone, and as Wylan huddled in his bed, he felt more isolated than ever.

And very afraid.


	14. Alone

Wylan woke up from a restless sleep. He blinked around his room, unsure what disturbed him. After his horrible evening, he’d gone to bed without eating anything else, both because he was upset and out of concern that he might get sick again.

A knock on his bedroom door made him jump. “Come down to my office, Wylan.”

That explained what woke him. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. There was no good reason for his father to need his presence this late at night, but he knew better than to ignore the summons.

Wylan sighed and sat up. At least he felt much better. Whatever he was sick with must have passed.

With a yawn, he got out of bed and headed downstairs. His father had been crueler than usual lately. Hopefully this would just be his typical routine, a few jabs at his intelligence and demands for him to read, after which Wylan could go back to sleep and dream of better things.

When he reached his father’s office, however, he came fully awake and a chill ran through him. This wasn’t the normal routine. His father looked too self-satisfied.

“You wanted to see me?” he asked.

“Yes. I owe you an apology.”

Wylan took a step back.

“It is important to be able to admit when you’re wrong.” His father’s voice was calm. “Well, I admit it. You are more than capable of taking care of yourself after all.”

Wylan’s heart hammered. Whenever his father said something that _sounded_ like a compliment, it meant something terrible.

“You made an admirable case for yourself. I’m proud of you.”

“What?” He rubbed his head. “A case for myself? When?”

“Don’t be silly,” his father said, still in that too-calm voice. “Today in court.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All the details are right here.” He lifted an official-looking document. “A pity you couldn’t read it, but of course you did sign it once the details were explained to you.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t sign—”

“That’s your signature, isn’t it?”

Wylan stared at the document. At the bottom was indeed something that looked like his signature. He returned his confused stare to his father. Had he _forged_ Wylan’s signature? Was that the meaning behind his sudden demands for Wylan to write his name?

“Don’t give me that look,” his father said. “You didn’t commit yourself to an asylum, as tempted as I was to try. You merely got your wish. You’re free.”

“Free from what?”

“From me.” His father smiled. “You’ve been officially emancipated. You’re can do whatever you wish. Of course, I don’t owe you anything now.”

Wylan couldn’t even wrap his mind around the situation. Somehow, his father had him removed from his guardianship. He’d forged Wylan’s signature on legal documents. If it wasn’t a complete lie, he’d gotten a false Wylan to appear in court and prove he could take care of himself.

His illegal connections, his promise he had more than one plan… all to discard the son he didn’t want.

“I’ll find a way,” Wylan said, his voice hoarse, unsure if he meant a way to overturn this decision or a way to live on his own.

“You do that. Now get out of my house.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Get out.” His father’s smile broadened. “I don’t need to offer you shelter anymore. Leave, or I will have you removed.”

“It’s nighttime!”

“What a pity.”

Wylan began to shake. He felt a panic attack coming on and sucked in breath to try to calm down. “I’ll… need to pack—”

 “You have five minutes. If there is anything left that belongs to you and not to me, I will have it shipped to your new address.”

This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. He felt cold and small and insignificant. He was being kicked out of his own house in the middle of the night.

“My phone,” he whispered. “It belongs to me.”

“Oh, it does, doesn’t it?” To his surprise, his father opened a desk drawer and pulled out his cell phone.

Wylan took it immediately. He’d expected to never see it again. It disturbed him that his father surrendered it so easily.

“Now you have four minutes.”

He fled the office and ran upstairs to grab everything he could from his room. He threw a coat on over his pajamas and shoved the phone into his pocket. Then he grabbed his bag and flute case. At least he’d have what he needed for school… He packed as many things into his bag as he could, aware of the time passing and certain his father really would have him forcibly removed if he was still there once his five minutes were up.

As he raced back into the hall and headed for the staircase, Alys opened the bedroom door and frowned at him. “Wylan? Are you leaving?”

“Yeah.” His throat felt raw.

“But why? You said you didn’t have to. We even celebrated!”

“Ask my father.” He blinked away tears. Alys meant well. She never intentionally hurt him. “You should leave, too, when you have a chance.”

She put her hand over her mouth. “Why would you say such a thing? I can’t leave. This is where I live.”

“Then you better pray your son is the perfect child my father wants,” he said. “Or one day it will be him walking out alone into the night.”

Wylan turned away from her and walked down the stairs. He passed his father, who had finally won, and then he left the Van Eck mansion forever to stand outside in the cold.

The night air pierced the thin fabric of his coat, but he lifted his chin and walked down the street, just in case his father was watching from the window. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing his fear. Once he reached the end of the block, he stopped and took a breath.

He couldn’t afford to fall apart. Having a panic attack in the middle of the street at night would invite for trouble. He needed to carefully look at the situation and solve it step by step.

Problem 1: he had no place to stay.

Problem 2: he didn’t have any money to get a motel room with.

Anxiety crashed over him and he crouched with his hands on his knees. Breathe. _Think._ He could solve this. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. Most people would probably ask a friend to let them spend the night.

Problem 3: he had no friends.

Wylan gritted his teeth. This year was different. He still struggled with friendships and trust, but he’d gotten better. He wasn’t quite ready to knock on someone’s door—he didn’t know where any of them lived, either—but…

But…

His panic eased. On the day of their awkward study session, he’d watched Kaz open the way to his friends’ hideout. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable place to sleep, but it was better than nothing. They wouldn’t begrudge him the space if they found him.

Wylan took a breath and started toward the park. That took care of the immediate concern. In the morning, he’d work out more permanent plans, whether it meant asking to stay with someone—unlikely any of them wanted him around that much—or finding a job to earn enough money to rent.

Halfway to the park, he realized he was being followed.

He glanced over his shoulder in time to see two figures drop out of sight. When he moved forward again, the footsteps behind him resumed.

Muggers would be disappointed when they stopped the Van Eck son only to find out he had no money. He almost laughed, but the bleak thought wasn’t enough to comfort him. They might not be muggers. They might plan to kidnap or kill him.

Wylan increased his pace and took side streets to reach the park. Once he was a block away, he almost relaxed, but after a few more steps, his pursuers re-emerged.

No, no, no, not like this! He couldn’t breathe. He felt dizzy. He walked faster toward the park, but he didn’t know what he’d do when he got there. They could follow him into the hideout, and then he’d be trapped. Plus he’d have given away the hideout’s location to these people.

He got out his phone and sent up a silent prayer of thanks that he had it back. His stomach clenched when he thought about his father reading through his personal conversations, but he could worry about that once he stopped the immediate danger. He opened his contacts list. He only had three contacts: his father, Jesper, and the local police department, whose number was added when he got the phone.

No—only two contacts.

For a moment, he stared at the screen, dizzy as he realized Jesper’s contact information had been deleted, but then he took a deep breath. He’d deal with that later, too.

He called the police and waited.

“Hello?”

“I need help. I’m being followed.” As quickly as he could, he explained the situation and his location relative to the park.

“One minute.”

As he waited, he looked over his shoulder. The people were close enough for him to tell they were both large men, and they didn’t look friendly. One flashed a sinister grin when their gazes met.

“Hello?” he said into the phone, his mouth dry and his heart in his throat. “Are you still there?”

“Are you Wylan Van Eck?” the person on the other end asked.

“Y-Yes, how did you—”

“Don’t worry. You already have a police escort.”

“I _do_?”

“Your father has someone tailing you to make sure no one bothers you. I just checked with your escort, and he says everything is under control.”

“Everything is _not_ under control!”

“Stay calm, and you’ll meet up with him soon.”

“You’re the police! You’re supposed to help people, not let my father trick you!” he yelled into the phone, but the line was already dead.

Great, just great. Had his father paid off the police? Lied to them? He had someone tailing him, all right, but it sure wasn’t a police escort. Wylan could no longer dismiss his concerns that his father wanted him dead. Being murdered on the street after leaving home would be so much harder to trace than poison.

The only person who could refute the claim that he left voluntarily was Alys, and his father would have plenty of time to convince her she remembered the conversation wrong.

Wylan felt like he was suffocating.

Maybe 911? But they might have the report about the false escort, too. He needed someone he could trust—someone who couldn’t be turned against him even by a man as powerful as Jan Van Eck.

Wylan looked over his shoulder at the distant figures getting ever closer. Then he turned his attention to his phone and searched through his message history. Everything he had from Jesper was gone.

Focus. He tried to breathe.

The first time he ever texted Jesper, he’d been so nervous he might get the wrong number by mistake. He’d gone over the number countless times before he dared to actually send his message.

Wylan closed his eyes and let the night and his pursuers fade. He took himself back to that day at the start of the school year, when he found a lost book and a scribbled phone number that ended up meaning so much to him.

Slowly, he entered the number again and prayed Jesper had his phone on.

#

Jesper woke up in confusion over what disturbed him. When his phone buzzed, he glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. With a groan, he pulled the blankets over his head. Didn’t his friends understand that being heartbroken meant he didn’t have the energy to stay up to all hours? He’d respect Cutie Pie’s wishes to be left alone, but he wasn’t happy about it.

Another message came.

And another.

And another.

“Oh come on.” He reluctantly sat up and grabbed his phone from the bedside table. Who would send such insistent messages this late at night, anyway?

To his surprise, the sender was Cutie Pie. That changed everything. He’d once promised to never give up on him, and he meant it.

When he read the messages, his heart nearly stopped.

_Jesper, I’m sorry._

_I know you probably hate me, but I really need help right now. I’m at the park. I’m being followed and the police won’t help. I have nowhere to go._

_Please help me._

_Please._

_Please, I’m scared._

Jesper sent a response as fast as he could: _on my way_

He felt like he might have a heart attack. His Cutie Pie was in danger. Serious danger, alone with no one to help him. Jesper threw on the first clothes he found, shoved the phone into his pocket, and raced out of his bedroom.


	15. Because I Care

As Jesper ran across the apartment to grab his motorcycle helmet, the door to his dad’s room opened. “Is something wrong?”

“My friend’s in trouble.” He jammed the helmet onto his head. “He can stay here, right?”

His dad looked startled. “Yes… but I don’t want you getting involved in anything bad.”

“I won't.” There wasn't enough time to explain Cutie Pie's situation. Jesper raced for the door.

“Jesper—”

He glanced back.

“Just stay safe.”

He nodded, but didn’t smile. He dashed into the hall and prayed Cutie Pie could hang on long enough for him to get there.

#

As he approached the park on his motorcycle, he stayed alert for any sign of a struggle. Finally, he turned the corner and three people came into view. A small figure wrenched himself free from someone trying to strangle him, only to be grabbed by the second assailant.

Jesper squeezed the gas and sped toward them. He skidded to a stop as they turned toward him in surprise, and leaped off the bike. “Let him go!”

He swung his fist at the closest attacker and only struck a glancing blow, but it must have showed in his face that he wouldn’t give up. The two men took off down the road.

Then Jesper looked down into Wylan’s frightened blue eyes.

His heart skipped a beat. After all that happened, Cutie Pie really _was_ Wylan?

“You came for me,” Wylan whispered.

“Of course I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Oh.” Wylan hunched his shoulders and lowered his head. “Well… now you know the truth. It’s me.”

He looked so small and scared, even though the danger was past, Jesper couldn’t just stand there. He stepped forward to close the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Wylan. The other boy stiffened, but then buried his face against Jesper’s shoulder. His whole body trembled.

“Shh…” Jesper squeezed him tighter and rubbed his back. “You’re safe now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

After another moment, Wylan slowly stepped away. “Thank you,” he said in a strained voice that suggested he was desperately trying to sound brave. “I’m all right now. If you can lend me enough money for a motel room, I promise I’ll pay it back.”

“You don’t think I raced all the way down here just to abandon you, do you?” It was all Jesper could do not to embrace him again. “Come stay at my place. My dad already said it’s fine.”

Wylan’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to be a burden…”

“You’re not a burden at all.”

“But I—”

Jesper couldn’t stand the thought of him being alone any longer. “Please.”

“You _want_ me to stay with you? After the things I said? After I lied to you?” Wylan looked away. “I’ve been awful. I’m so sorry.”

“I care about you too much to let that come between us.”

Wylan’s eyes shone with the conflict he described in his messages, the desire to trust and the fear that his trust would be betrayed. At last, he nodded, although his voice remained tremulous. “Okay.”

Jesper clapped him on the shoulder and led him to where he’d left the motorcycle. “Don’t worry, I’ll drive slow.”

When they reached the road, a little more life entered Wylan’s face. “By the way… what are you wearing?”

Jesper blinked and frowned down at himself. In his haste, he’d grabbed whatever he could find, which turned out to be an inside-out T-shirt, sweatpants, and mismatched socks. He laughed. “Guess I was in a bit of a hurry. No wonder those guys ran away when they saw me. They must have thought I was some sort of lunatic.”

Wylan also laughed, and the tension between them eased. Jesper climbed onto his motorcycle, and the younger boy climbed up behind him. His hands tentatively slid around Jesper’s waist.

“Is this right?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

“For you, that’s _always_ right.” He glanced over his shoulder and was rewarded by a bright blush. “And yes, hold onto me. Don’t let go.”

Wylan blushed harder. Jesper hadn’t meant anything by it that time, but he'd never object to causing that adorable blush. He started the engine. As they drove out into the street, Wylan pressed his face against the back of his shirt.

“Hang in there, Cutie Pie,” Jesper said softly. “We’ll be home soon.”

#

Wylan tried to hide his nervousness as Jesper opened the apartment door, but when the man inside greeted them with an anxious look, he shrank back behind his friend despite his efforts.

“Are you all right?”

“We’re fine, Dad.” Jesper guided him inside and closed the door, then went to put away his helmet.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Colm Fahey, Jesper’s dad.”

“W-Wylan.” He shook his hand.

Colm smiled. “So _you’re_ Wylan. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wylan blinked. He had?

“You know, when he first came home talking nonstop about the sophomore taking classes with him, I hoped he might be inspired to study more, but…”

Jesper groaned. “Dad, don’t embarrass me.”

“I’m not,” he said. “If I want to embarrass you, I’ll tell him stories from your childhood, like that time you tried to climb—”

“Dad!”

An indescribable emotion bubbled up inside of Wylan as he watched the two of them. Jealousy? Longing? Although there was amusement in Colm’s voice and exasperation in Jesper’s, the simple exchange contained more warmth than anything he remembered from _his_ father.

Jesper left the room and returned a moment later with a pillow and blankets, which he tossed onto the couch and started arranging.

“Now,” Colm said, as he turned back to Wylan, “is there anything you need?”

Wylan cringed. Whenever his father said something like that, it meant annoyance over needing to do something for him. Just as he’d warned, Wylan had gone on to become the same burden for someone else.

He looked down at the floor. “No, sir.”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“It's okay, Dad.” Jesper returned to Wylan’s side and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You can go back to sleep. I’ll get him settled in.”

“All right. Call if you need anything.”

Wylan hesitantly looked up. “Thank—thank you for letting me stay. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

To his surprise, Colm gave him a warm smile. “It’s no trouble.”

He disappeared into another room, and Jesper reached out. “Let me hang up your coat.”

Wylan only had his pajamas on underneath it, but he supposed it had to happen eventually. He took off his coat and handed it over. While his friend took it to the coat rack by the door, Wylan set down his bag and flute case and looked around.

It was a pleasant apartment, with a living room, a kitchen area, one door that led to a bathroom, and two others he assumed were bedrooms.

“Yeah, I guess, uh—” Jesper cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “This isn’t much like what you’re used to…”

Wylan looked from him to the door where Colm had gone. “Yeah,” he said, surprised by the bitterness in his own voice, “ _your_ father cares about you. That’s not at all like what I’m used to.”

Sympathy replaced the discomfort in Jesper's face. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

First Wylan shook his head, but then he nodded. “Yes. Talking to you helps.”

And it was easier than he expected it to be. Already, it felt more like one of their comforting text conversations.

Jesper walked to the kitchen. “While you talk, I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate?” A pang ran through Wylan. He really was becoming a burden already. “You don’t need to go through that much trouble!”

“Hey, I’m having some, too. It’ll save me the embarrassment of drinking alone. And you could use some chocolate. In the morning, you can have coffee.” Jesper winked. “The way you like it. Black.”

Wylan’s cheeks heated as he remembered _that_ particular conversation. To save himself from the anxiety that came with trying to sort out his feelings, he launched into an explanation of what happened—how his father somehow staged a case for him to emancipate himself and he officially had no home.

“Man.” Jesper mixed the hot chocolate and stared at him. “I knew he was horrible, but that’s insane.”

“And I think he sent those men after me.” He explained what the police said when he called for help and his suspicions that his father wanted him gone.

Jesper’s mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally he picked up the two mugs and walked to Wylan. “Is… is there anything I can do?” His voice was soft and gentle, almost hesitant. “Anything to make you feel better?”

Wylan opened his mouth to say no, but different words came out instead. “Please forgive me.”

His friend smiled and led him to the couch. “No need to ask.” He sat down and patted the cushion next to him. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Wylan sat and took the offered mug. The drink was hot, but not quite enough to banish the chill. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Jesper shifted, and then they were touching like the way they sat in the hideout that night, shoulders and legs pressed together.

Nervous, afraid he’d only hurt himself, Wylan eased closer until he was nestled against the other boy’s side. Jesper looked surprised, but slid one arm around his shoulders and squeezed him close.

And that _did_ banish the chill.

They drank their hot chocolate in a comfortable silence that gave him time to relax. He wished he could spend the rest of his life like this, snuggled up against Jesper, safe and warm and not afraid someone would hurt him.

Once they finished, Jesper nudged him. “So I finally got to see it after all.”

“What?”

“The pajamas with my Cutie Pie _in_ them.”

Wylan turned scarlet.

Jesper grinned and stretched. “You want to stay up longer, or are you ready to sleep?”

He didn’t want this moment to ever end, but when he opened his mouth to answer, a huge yawn escaped him.

Jesper chuckled. “I take it that means sleep?”

“I’m pretty tired.”

“All right. Just a minute.”

The sudden absence of Jesper’s warmth as he stood and walked into his bedroom made Wylan want to reach out and pull him back, but instead he relaxed and let himself sink against the couch cushions. A comforting scent surrounded him, and he breathed deeply. It reminded him of Jesper. Was it his shampoo? Something in his clothes? Whatever it was, he liked it.

He could get used to this. He’d like to forget his worries and what happened at home and just embrace this. He could live on the Faheys’ couch for the rest of his life and be happy, if only they’d let him. But it could never last. The best he could do was treasure this moment of peace while he had it.

He glanced at the door, unsure if he should get under the blankets or not. Jesper said he’d be back, but what more did he have to do before they went to sleep? Probably just a good night. Wylan crawled under the blankets and lay down.

The door opened again, and Jesper stepped out.

Wylan glanced at him and immediately blushed. He thought back to that conversation where Jesper asked him what he wore to sleep. For Jesper, the answer seemed to be boxers and nothing else. No wonder he had to throw on random articles of clothing to rescue him.

Jesper strode across to the couch and grinned down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Um.” He tried not to look at Jesper’s chest, but that put his gaze on his toned stomach muscles. He swallowed and quickly looked up at Jesper’s face instead.

His grin broadened. “Admiring the view?” Jesper lifted his arms and turned in a slow circle. “Feel free to admire all you want.”

Wylan sat up. “I was trying to sleep.”

“One problem with that.”

“What?”

He squeaked as Jesper reached down and pulled him to his feet. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, Wylan, I am. You’re taking my bed.” He waved his hand toward the bedroom.

It was almost enough to distract him from Jesper’s bare chest so close to him. Wylan shook his head furiously. “I can’t take your bed!”

“You’ve had a rough night. I’m not making you sleep on the couch after all that. You deserve some comfort. Go in, relax.”

“But I’m just a guest. It’s your bed.”

Jesper smirked. “If you want to share, I won’t object.” He flopped onto the couch and stretched out his legs. “But the only way you’re sleeping on the couch is if you’re curled up on top of me.” His eyebrows twitched. “Or under me. Which do you prefer?”

Wylan turned scarlet. “Fine, I’ll take the bed.”

“If it bothers you, we can switch tomorrow night.”

His heart skipped a beat. Tomorrow? Jesper wanted him to stay multiple days? He’d imagined himself searching for a place to stay after this one wonderful night. Even if it was just for the weekend, they’d really let him stay that long? He turned away as his eyes filled with startled tears.

“Wylan? You okay?”

He nodded. “Just… overwhelmed by everything.”

“I’m right here if you need me.”

The warmth in Jesper’s voice made Wylan’s heart sing. He wiped his eyes and glanced back at the couch. “Good night. Thank you so much.”

“You’re worth it.” Jesper looked beautiful, lounging on the couch with a gentle smile as if giving up his bed was no problem at all. “Good night.”

Wylan grabbed his bag and flute case and entered Jesper’s room. He closed the door behind him and looked around. It was small and cluttered, and a pile of clothing barely hidden beneath the bed suggested Jesper had hastily tried to tidy things up for him. He climbed into the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

Doubts flared inside of him. Maybe Jesper had expected him to share the bed and secretly felt hurt and resentful. Maybe Colm would tolerate him for one night, but then order him to leave. Maybe Wylan’s father would rescind the false documents and force him to return home for the next painful scheme. Maybe—

Wylan squeezed his eyes shut. It was the middle of the night, he’d been welcomed into a safe place, and Jesper’s behavior toward him matched the warm acceptance from their texts, not the casual treatment he feared. He didn’t have the will or the energy to second-guess everything tonight.

He sank back against the pillow and let the comforting scent of Jesper soothe him into sleep.


	16. Loved

Wylan woke up disoriented. He felt a sense of contentment he’d been missing for a long time, but when he opened his eyes, he didn’t recognize his surroundings. He lay in a soft, warm bed, but it wasn't his. He blinked at the unfamiliar room. Where in the world...

Jesper!

The events of the previous day crashed in on him, and he shivered. Kicked out of his house, nearly killed, saved by Jesper…

He closed his eyes. He wanted to exist forever in this moment, free of his doubts and worries, filled with thoughts of the way Jesper held him the night before.

But he had to face reality, whatever it might be. Although it was Saturday, he decided not to sleep in. It wasn’t his home. Jesper’s dad might think he was lazy. Wylan got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room.

Jesper still lay on the couch, sound asleep. In the kitchen, Colm sat at the counter with a cup of coffee.

Wylan took a deep breath and approached the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Colm smiled and stood up. “What do you want for breakfast? We don’t have a lot of options, but you could have cereal, toast, eggs?”

“What—” His throat came out a dry croak, and he cleared it so he could try again. “Whatever is the least trouble.”

“Trouble?” Colm’s smile faded into a concerned frown. “You know you’re welcome here, right?”

Wylan looked away. “Sure.” He was shaking. He tried to remind himself that Jesper’s father wasn’t anything like _his_ father, but his rapid heartbeat ignored him.

“I don’t know what happened to you, but you seem like a good kid.”

He stared down at the floor. Might as well get it over with. It would come up eventually. “My father got rid of me because I can’t read.” Saying it out loud reopened the aching pain in his chest, and tears welled up in his eyes. He always knew his father considered him an embarrassment, but he’d thrown him away like a piece of trash.

Abruptly, Colm hugged him. “No one here will get rid of you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, stunned by the unexpected reassurance.

He couldn’t remember the last time a parental figure had hugged him. It filled a different void in him, and he cried quietly against Colm’s chest while silently vowing that if his father ever tried to hurt the Faheys, Wylan would stop him by any means necessary.

At last, he pulled away and wiped his eyes. Things were okay. He was okay. He wouldn’t spend this weekend crying.

“You can stay as long as you want,” Colm said.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “You’re very important to Jesper.”

Wylan lowered his head. “Are… are you sure?”

“If you saw his face last night when he heard you were in danger,” Colm said softly, “you wouldn’t need to ask.”

“Are you two talking about me?” a sleepy voice asked from the couch.

Wylan turned around just as Jesper sat up. The blankets slipped away, and the sight of his bare chest and stomach brought just as much heat to Wylan’s face as it did the night before.

Jesper stood and stretched, which made it worse, and then he grinned. “I think I’ll take a shower and get dressed before Wylan has a heart attack.”

Wylan covered his face. He didn’t lower his hands until the bathroom door shut. Then he dared a look at Colm, who seemed amused.

The door opened again and Jesper poked his head out. “And please, _try_ to resist the urge to walk in on me while I’m showering, okay?”

“Jesper!”

He winked and closed the door.

When the water started, it was probably safe, although Wylan couldn’t entirely rule out the possibility that he’d prance out in a minute wearing only a towel to make another inane comment. He glanced at Colm. “Is he always like this?”

“I think he’s making a special effort for you.”

He covered his face again and wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

#

After Jesper showered, he joined Wylan for breakfast until Colm had to leave for the day. That left them completely alone—but Wylan muttered something about a shower and all but fled into the bathroom after grabbing some of the clothes he'd packed.

Jesper couldn’t help but notice that he locked the door, and he wondered if it was habit or if he really had concerns that Jesper might peek.

He ran a hand over his face. Last night, everything had seemed perfect. When Wylan actually cuddled up next to him on the couch, he thought the problems between them must have vanished entirely. Of course things were never that easy.

But he’d be patient. The kid had been thrown out of his house by someone who devoted _way_ too much effort to ruining his son’s self-image and sense of worth. If Van Eck spent half that energy on his business—or recognized how helpful Wylan's math skills could be to him—he’d be even richer than he was already.

Well, Van Eck didn’t deserve his precious son. His loss was Jesper’s gain, and he’d do whatever it took to not lose Wylan this time.

At last, the bathroom door opened, and Wylan stepped out. With his hair wet and cheeks pink from the shower, he looked even cuter than usual, and Jesper drew in a sharp breath before patting the couch cushion next to him. He’d already folded the blankets.

Wylan walked to the couch and sat down, but he didn’t move closer the way he had the night before. He visibly trembled. “What—” He cleared his throat. “What do you usually do on weekends?”

Jesper shrugged. “Whatever I want. Hang out with friends, stuff like that.”

“Oh, well if you want to go somewhere—”

“You’re my friend. I want to spend today with you.”

Wylan’s pink cheeks reddened. “So… we’re friends, then?”

Now that question, Jesper hadn’t expected. He stared at the other boy like he was crazy. “Of course! I mean, you’re kind of standoffish in class, but we sent so many texts back and forth…”

“But…” Wylan lowered his head. “I called it off.”

“That doesn’t mean I stopped caring. I was working on a scheme to win you back, although after that last message, I wasn’t sure I should.”

“What message?”

Jesper frowned. “The one from yesterday, where you told me to stop bothering you.”

A shudder ran through the younger boy. “That wasn’t me. My father… he took my phone. I think he wanted to make sure I couldn’t go to you for help. He even deleted your contact information.”

“He did? How did you call me?”

“I remembered your phone number from the first time we talked.”

Jesper stared at him. “You’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

Wylan managed a weak smile. “So what was your scheme to win me back?”

“Since I didn’t know you were the same person, I was going to ask you to paint me something romantic, and then try to get it to ‘Cutie Pie.’ Something to show I really wanted a relationship.”

“Oh.” He looked away.

“Is… that what you want?”

For a long time, he didn’t say anything. Finally, he spoke up in a soft voice. “I was going to tell you who I was. Then I heard some girls talking about… about how many people you’d been with. And… and having ‘conquests.’ And then I… I…” He covered his face. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. I…”

“Hey.” Jesper put his hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.” When the younger boy looked up at him with hope and fear in his blue eyes, he took a deep breath. “Flirting comes naturally to me.” He smirked. “With my charm, how can I help it?”

Wylan rolled his eyes, but smiled.

“It’s actually harder with you sometimes.”

“What?” Hurt flashed across his face. “Why?”

Jesper tightened his grip on his shoulder and hurried to explain before he could get the wrong impression. “Because I actually _care_ about how you’ll react. It’s one thing to make a few flirty comments to someone I’m working with. But with you…” He stared into Wylan’s face and searched for the words to describe his feelings. At last, he threw his hands in the air. “See? Even now, I can’t figure out what to say.”

“Are you saying I make you speechless?” Wylan sounded skeptical, with barely-concealed pain beneath his tone. “Jesper, if we went into this with different expectations, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten through worse be—”

“No, that’s not it at all!” Jesper pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is it you’re afraid of? That I just want to have a little fun and then move on?”

Wylan nodded, his face tense.

He sighed. “Do you think I’m cruel?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“But you think I’d lead you on for this long, even knowing you want a committed relationship, and keep trying to win you over, just to betray you?”

“I guess not,” Wylan whispered.

“I can’t tell the future. I can’t promise you everything will work out. But I _can_ promise you that my feelings for you are genuine.”

“Why?”

He frowned. “Why what?”

“Why _me_?” Wylan lowered his head and clutched at his hair. “That’s what I couldn’t get past. Why would someone like you want someone like me?”

“What’s not to want?” Jesper grinned. “What’s not to love? You’re smart, funny, adorable, and”—he edged closer and slung his arm across the other boy’s shoulders—“you happen to fit perfectly in my arms. If that isn’t destiny, I don’t know what is.”

“But I’m not like you. I’ll never be like you.”

“Irresistible though I may be, I don’t want to date myself.”

“I get nervous and embarrassed way too easily.”

“And I love the way you blush.”

“I can’t even—”

“If you end that sentence with ‘read,’ I’m going to march to your father’s house right now and punch him.”

Wylan let out a startled laugh and looked up. “Well… I wouldn’t want you arrested, so I won’t say it.”

“Don’t even think it.” Jesper closed the remaining distance between them and hoped the other boy would relax against him like he did last night. “I…” On second thought, maybe it was a bad idea. The feel of Wylan’s body was distracting, especially when he blinked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. “I want you to know how perfect you are.”

“I’m hardly perfect.”

“Pfft.” He reached up to play with one of Wylan’s curls and then let his fingers trail along the back of his neck, which rewarded him with a shiver and a delightful flush of pink.

But Wylan shifted away from his touch and turned to look straight at him. “I’m serious. We can pretend everything’s okay, but it won’t be. My doubts will come back. I’ll be afraid again. I’ll start wondering when you’ll leave me. Something like this doesn’t just go away!”

“It will get better.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Jesper slid closer again. “Because I won’t betray you. I’ll stay by your side. When it gets too rough, I’ll reassure you. And slowly, those scars on your heart will heal.”

“How poetic.”

“Must be thanks to _Shadows in the Moonlight._ ”

A slight smile crossed Wylan’s face. “Oh right, your hot textbook.”

“Believe me, there’s nothing hot about it.”

He straightened, and the gap between them shrunk further still. “Depends on what you find hot,” he said, his voice shaky.

Jesper caught his breath. Their faces were inches apart. If he wasn’t worried about going too fast for the other boy, he could so easily kiss—

And then Wylan’s lips were on his.

He kissed softly, hesitantly, as if afraid he’d be told he was doing it wrong. Jesper reached out to pull the other boy against him and ran his fingers through his hair, no longer thinking about anything but the taste of Wylan’s lips. It was magical. Powerful. The best kiss Jesper ever had. All the excitement of a card game or flirtation or the speed of his motorcycle, amplified a thousand times.

At last, Wylan pulled away, his anxious gaze on Jesper’s face as if searching for approval.

Jesper let out a long breath. “If poetry makes you do _that_ ,” he said, his heart still pounding, “I’ll get _Shadows in the Moonlight_ right now and read you every poem in the book.”

#

Despite his flushed excitement, part of Wylan's mind whispered that of course he wasn’t a good kisser, it felt amazing to him because _Jesper_ was a good kisser, but he’d never done it before and so he must have done an awful job—but Jesper's gaze went to his lips and sent a thrill through him that banished the doubts.

A smile spread across Wylan’s face. “I don’t need poetry. Just you.” It sounded corny enough to make him blush, but he leaned forward hopefully.

Jesper took the hint and kissed him. His kiss was firm, more confident, and soon Wylan couldn’t focus on anything except Jesper’s strong arms around him and the way his mouth moved hungrily over his lips.

They parted for air, and Jesper settled back against the couch cushions. He pulled Wylan with him and grinned.

Wylan felt dizzy. That smile directed only at him and no one else was enough to make him delirious with glee. Once again, he felt himself poised upon that precipice. If he gave in to this, to this dream of warmth and love and acceptance, losing it would shatter his heart into a million pieces.

“You okay?” Concern shone in Jesper’s gray eyes, and his smile faded. “Is this too much?”

Close as they were, his low voice rumbled against Wylan and sent shivers of need through him. And he could see there, in his worried gaze, that for all his flirtation and insinuations, he had the patience to stop if he needed him to. Wylan’s fear melted away.

“It’s just right,” he whispered, and brought his mouth to Jesper’s again.


	17. What You Need

After more kisses, which left Wylan a flustered, blushing mess, he shifted off of Jesper and into the space between him and the couch cushions. As he snuggled in, he realized Jesper was absolutely right, he always had a perfectly Wylan-shaped gap beside him, and it had to be destiny.

Jesper grinned, and he briefly wondered if his desire for affection made him come across as too needy, but then Jesper wrapped one arm around him and draped the other across his stomach, and Wylan stopped thinking about anything else.

“I wish we could do this forever,” he mumbled.

Jesper let out a dramatic sigh. “I accept my fate, condemned to an eternity of cuddling.”

Wylan giggled and relaxed. He hoped Jesper meant it, more or less. If he really was allowed to stay with the Faheys, they could do this every day after school. The thought made him giddy.

They stayed like that for a few hours and he nearly fell asleep, until Jesper nudged him and said something about lunch. Wylan would have happily skipped lunch, but to his relief, after they ate, they returned to the same position.

“This can’t be a fun weekend for you,” he said eventually.

“Shh.” Jesper stroked his hair. “You’re crazy if you don’t think holding you is fun.”

That was good enough for him. Part of him felt he should get up and do something or accompany Jesper to spend time with the rest of his friends, but he was content to lie there and let Friday’s terrible events fade.

When Colm returned home a short while later, Wylan started to move away, but Jesper tightened his arm around him and gave him an inquisitive look. Wylan blushed furiously, but rested his head against Jesper’s shoulder. If Jesper was fine with his dad knowing about them, then he would be too. It wasn’t like they could keep it a secret forever.

And it sent a thrill through him. If Jesper wanted his dad to know, then their relationship really _didn’t_ have to be temporary.

“So,” Jesper said, “have you decided what you want to do?”

He blinked. “About what?”

“You can stay with us if you want. Always. We can probably get some more of your stuff back for you, too. But…” Jesper glanced away. “I understand if you don’t. I mean, our apartment is small and not the sort of place you’re used to.”

Wylan stared at him in amazement. Why would he ever want to leave a place where he was loved?

“So… if you want to go home, we can probably poke enough holes in those phony documents your father got to overturn them.”

“I’d rather stay,” Wylan said. “If you want me here, of _course_ I want to stay. The only way I’d ever go back there again is if my father was gone.”

Jesper winked. “If that happens, take me with you.”

Wylan laughed. “Okay.” Then he snuggled closer. Everything was going to be all right.

#

That night, Wylan unfolded the blankets for the couch. “You said we’re alternating, right? So you have the bed this time.”

“Darn right,” Jesper said with a smirk. “But if you wanted to share, there’s plenty of room.”

Wylan froze with his hands on the blankets. If he was honest with himself, he already missed the warmth from their cuddling, and he wasn’t ready to be alone again so soon. But… He lifted his head and stared into Jesper’s beautiful gray eyes.

“I promise, Wy, all I want is to be close to you.”

He drew in a nervous breath and smiled. “Just… let me change into my pajamas first.”

“Not going to change in front of me?” Jesper winked. “So much for my carefully planned scheme.”

 “You’re such a dork.”

“But a loveable one you said!”

Wylan laughed and took the pillow from the couch into the bedroom. He dropped it onto the bed and took another breath to compose himself. Although it still felt a little strange, the entire apartment was developing a sense of familiarity and safety. He changed into his pajamas and opened the door. “Okay.”

Jesper walked in and raised his eyebrows. “What, you get privacy and I don’t?”

“All you have to do is take clothes _off_. What would be the point? There’s nothing I’d see that I won’t see in a minute anyway.”

“Getting bold.” He grinned. “You just want a Jesper striptease, that’s all.”

“Yeah right.”

“Your wish is my command, dear.” And Jesper began to dance as he slowly took his shirt off.

Wylan spun around, his cheeks on fire. “I swear, you can make anything more embarrassing than it has to be.”

“And you love it.”

It was true. He did love it. He loved everything about Jesper, from his smile to his teasing to how secure he felt with him. He didn’t want to lose this, ever.

“Done,” Jesper said after a moment.

Wylan turned and found himself once again faced with the impossibly alluring sight of Jesper wearing almost nothing. He swallowed hard and scrambled into the bed. “W-Well, good night!”

Jesper chuckled and slipped under the blankets next to him. “Making you blush is too much fun.”

“Good, because it won’t stop anytime soon.”

“Should I turn off the light, or do you need to bask in my glory a little longer?”

“Lights off.”

“As you wish.”

Wylan thought the darkness would ease his embarrassment. Instead, being unable to see Jesper just made him hyper-aware of his warmth and the tiny rustling as he shifted in bed. Any movement might make their skin brush.

“Jesper?”

“Hmm?”

“In the morning, before you shower or eat or anything else, I want you to tell your dad that we didn’t do anything in here.”

“We’re right next to his room and the walls are thin. He’d hear if we were doing anything.”

“Jesper!”

“All right, I’ll tell him.” He laughed. “You’re rather concerned with propriety, aren’t you?”

“Does that… bother you?”

“Not at all. It’s part of your charm.”

Wylan blushed. “Good night.”

“Sleep well.”

He closed his eyes and relaxed. But Jesper turned out to be a restless sleeper. Soon, brushing skin was the least of Wylan’s concerns, as he grew more worried about being kicked or having the pillow yanked out from beneath his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch?” he finally asked.

“Huh?” Despite all the movement, Jesper sounded sleepy and confused. “Why?”

“You keep moving around.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not bothering me. This is how I always sleep.”

Oh God. Sharing a bed might not be as soothing as he’d expected.

“Wylan? Something wrong?”

“No,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Good night.” Jesper rolled over, then rolled to the other side, and then fluffed his pillow.

Well, there were worse ways to sleep. If Jesper could deal with his fears, Wylan could deal with an active sleep routine. As Jesper’s adjustments finally slowed, Wylan drifted into sleep with a smile on his face. This sense of being loved made anything worth it.

#

A soft cry startled Jesper awake.

Most of the blankets had been pulled off of him, and he rolled over to see them bunched around Wylan, who blinked around with a fearful expression that made his heart ache.

“Wylan?” Jesper reached out hesitantly, unsure if touching him would help or not. “You okay?”

The younger boy jerked and then focused on him. “Jesper?” He relaxed, although he still clutched the blankets. “I’m here. I’m really here. This is real.”

“Of course it is.”

“I dreamed it wasn’t.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “If I woke up back there, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t live like that again, I _can’t!_ ”

“Shh…” Jesper pushed a few sweat-soaked curls out of Wylan’s face. Whenever he looked into those blue eyes, he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

“He loved me once,” Wylan whispered. “My father. Back when he thought I was the son he wanted.”

“He was a fool not to value you. I’m not like him.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to—to—”

“To what?” He could tell Wylan was hurting, and he’d do anything to ease the pain.

“To stop loving me when you realize I’ll always be different.”

Jesper cupped the side of Wylan’s face and leaned closer to give him a gentle kiss. The sweetness of his lips was intoxicating. “You goofy little genius, it’s _you_ that I want. Don’t be afraid.” He kissed him again and then pulled back to stare into his eyes. “Don’t be ashamed of who you are.”

The other boy gave a shaky nod. “It’s getting easier.”

“Good.” He stroked his hair. “Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah.”

With a smile, Jesper settled down and closed his eyes.

And abruptly opened them as a warm body pressed against his bare chest and stomach.

“Sorry.” Wylan’s cheeks turned crimson, but that didn’t stop him from snuggling closer. “Right now I just… need…” He trailed off. “You’re warm,” he finally said.

Jesper stared at him, torn between the urge to tease him that they’d be a lot warmer if he ditched the pajamas and the worry that such a comment might make him retreat. Finally, he settled for, “I know what you need,” and bent his head to lightly nuzzle his neck.

Wylan giggled and closed his eyes. “More.”

An invitation like that could not be ignored. It was hard to be so close to his soft skin without kissing, so Jesper added a trail of light kisses. The smaller boy squirmed and tilted his head back. A few more kisses earned a gasping groan, and that together with his closeness was driving Jesper wild.

He hastily got a grip on himself. Considering Wylan had little or no experience and more importantly, seemed starved for affection, this came dangerously close to taking advantage of him. Jesper reluctantly pulled his face away.

Wylan’s eyes fluttered open. “You stopped.”

The disappointment in his voice made Jesper breathless. “I think,” he said, as his heart tapped out a mad beat, “we should do this another time.”

Like when he had more clothes on. And they weren’t in bed. And he had a much, _much_ clearer grasp on what Wylan did and did not want.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “But… can I stay close to you like this?”

Jesper grinned and wrapped his arms around him. “Always.”

Wylan gave him a shy smile and closed his eyes.

For a while, Jesper just looked at him. Wylan looked so sweet, perfect, an angel that fell from heaven and landed in Jesper’s arms. The happiness and trust on his face was something Jesper hoped to see a lot more of.

Already, Wylan was showing more confidence, as well as a willingness to say what he wanted instead of assuming it would be refused. Jesper would gladly take credit for some of it, but he’d bet good money a lot of it came just from being away from his father.

“He’ll never hurt you again,” Jesper whispered. “I promise.”

#

When Wylan woke up with Jesper’s strong arms around him, a blush spread across his face. He could really get used to this. The past two mornings, he’d woken up with a stronger sense of peace and happiness than he ever had at home. Ironic. He giggled.

“Funny dream?” Jesper asked.

Even the sound of his voice made Wylan feel warm inside. He wiggled and twisted so he could look up into Jesper’s face. The other boy didn’t look tired, and Wylan wondered if he’d been awake for a while, just holding him as he slept. The thought took his breath away.

Jesper grinned and ran his thumb across Wylan’s cheek. “Come on, you can’t wake up giggling and not let me in on it.”

“I was just thinking,” he said, “that it’s a pretty nasty joke on my father to kick me out only for me to end up in paradise.”

“Paradise?” Jesper squeezed him closer. “Flatterer. _I’m_ the one in paradise.”

Wylan lifted his head to kiss him, and then again, and then a third time. Then he stretched. “Paradise or not, we have homework.”

“Homework?” Jesper sounded faintly insulted. “You stopped kissing me for _homework_?”

“It’s important.”

The other boy rolled his eyes, but sat up. “You do homework. I’ll take a shower. And yes, I promise, first I’ll tell my father we didn’t _do_ anything.” He winked.  “Although if you want to make a liar out of me, I won’t object.”

Wylan blushed furiously and sat up to throw a pillow, but before he could, Jesper leaned over and kissed his cheek. His heart raced, and all he could do was blush as the other boy strolled out of the room.

He tried to compose himself. Jesper’s kisses could be on the list of most addictive substances. But Wylan didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t run out.

He sat there for a moment longer, savoring the lingering warmth on his cheek, and then got up. Jesper’s desk had two chairs, so he picked one and sat down to do his homework. It felt odd to do this in someone else’s house, but not bad. He started with math and went to work.

Once he finished his math homework, his stomach growled in protest of his lack of breakfast. It had been quite a while since Jesper left. He walked to the door, but froze as voices reached his ears. It sounded like they were arguing.

His chest constricted. Arguing over him? He pushed the door open a crack and strained to make out Colm’s words.

“—that is abuse, and we can’t just not report it! The police—”

“The police were under Van Eck’s thumb when Wylan needed help the other night, so what makes you think it will be any different now? If you want to help Wylan, you can do that _here_ , not by going up against his father.”

“I don’t like it. We should be able to do something.”

“Giving him a home _is_ something.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It is for now, Dad. Please?”

There was a pause, and then a sigh. “Fine. I can’t say I like it, but all right.”

Wylan eased the door shut again and breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to Colm if he tried to fight his father.

He made it partway to the desk when the door opened and Jesper returned. Wylan tried to look casual, as if he’d gotten up to stretch.

Jesper’s eyebrows twitched. “Eavesdropping?”

He reddened. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Dad was really worried about you, so I had to tell him a little of what you went through. Now he wants your father arrested.”

Wylan managed a smile. “Don’t we all?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I know. Thank you for convincing him. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to either of you.”

“Nothing will, and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Jesper grinned. “You ready for breakfast?”

“After a little more homework.”

“How can you do homework before you _eat_?”

“I like to get it done early on the weekend. When do you do yours?”

“Let’s not get into that.”

Wylan rolled his eyes and sat back down. While he generally did well on his Chemistry homework, there were several questions to read. Fortunately, they were from the textbook. He reached for his phone.

Jesper grabbed the second chair and dragged it behind Wylan.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Jesper kissed the back of his neck just below his hair.

Wylan squirmed. “I’m trying to work!”

“It is amazing how you just roll out of bed looking like an angel.”

He rolled his eyes. As gentle kisses continued to distract him, he cleared his throat. “Don’t you have homework?”

“Mmhm,” Jesper said against his skin.

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“Doing it now.” His mouth dropped to Wylan’s shoulder, and teeth softly grazed his skin.

Wylan jumped. “Yeah, sure you’re doing your homework,” he said, impressed by how strong his voice sounded when he wanted to melt into a happy puddle.

“Studying what my beloved enjoys.”

He wasn’t sure what made his heart pound more, being called “beloved,” or Jesper’s questing mouth finding a sensitive spot.

“We have a lot of Chemistry work,” he said weakly.

“Like the chemistry between me and you.”

Wylan resisted the urge to give in and turned to face Jesper. The heat in his eyes almost melted him again, but he gently nudged him back. “Let me finish my homework, and then I’ll test you on _that_ chemistry.”

“Fine, fine.” Jesper let out a dramatic sigh, but his gaze was affectionate as he moved his chair to sit alongside him.

Wylan picked up his phone and searched for the audiobook version of their textbook he found at the start of the year, but then Jesper leaned forward.

“Let me read the questions to you.”

“What?”

“I told you I’d read to you, didn’t I? Tell me what you need, and I’ll read it to you. The same goes for your other classes, too.”

Wylan blinked, stunned by the offer.

“Please? I want to.”

“A-All right.” He handed over his Chemistry book. “We need to answer the first 10 questions in this section. Just don’t make up anything that really isn’t there, okay?”

“I’d never do that to you,” Jesper said, his face serious. Then he smiled and patted his legs.

Wylan stared at him.

“Sit in my lap.”

He turned scarlet. “No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

Jesper pouted. “Why not?”

“Because if I sit in your lap, we’ll end up kissing instead of doing homework, I know it.”

“You’ve seen through my evil scheme!”

“Homework first, kissing later.”

That turned his pout into a smile. “ _Lots_ of kissing later?”

Was it possible to blush permanently? “Yes.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Wylan grabbed his notebook as Jesper began reading.

Listening to his audiobooks always caused a stab of pain in his heart. It reminded him that he was different and made him wish for anything else. But this wasn’t like that at all. Instead, Jesper’s baritone voice reminded him with each word that he was loved.

“All right, that’s the first—” Jesper looked up at him and froze. “What’s wrong?”

Wylan realized he had tears in his eyes. He shook his head. How could he explain the way his heart swelled at the kindness of reading to him, without judgment, without scorn, without anything but the desire to help? He took the book from Jesper’s hands and set it on the desk, then sat in his lap before he could change his mind. “Homework can wait.”

Jesper grinned. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”

“I love you,” Wylan whispered, then drew back, afraid he shouldn’t have let those words slip out in person yet.

But Jesper’s grin broadened, and he pulled him into a tight embrace. “I love hearing you say that.” His lips went to Wylan’s ear. “And I love you, too.”

As they gently kissed, Wylan felt completely safe and at peace for the first time in years. This was what he’d been searching for. This was how life should be.

This was love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, after a chapter of fluff for two characters who desperately needed some fluff, we've finally reached the end. I had so much fun with this story, not just from writing it but also from reading your comments. Your enthusiasm and excitement made me love this story even more! Every time I posted a chapter, I looked forward to seeing what you would say.
> 
> (And I dream of the day I see similar enthusiasm for my original fiction, but for now, at least something I've written is bringing joy to my readers. :D)
> 
> I almost don't want it to end. You've sorely tempted me to start working on a sequel... Who knows? Maybe sometime after NaNoWriMo and when things are less busy, I'll revisit this AU.
> 
> Thank you again for all your wonderful comments and support!


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